


In Plain Sight

by JustMakeLeftTurns



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family, Gen, Some hurt/comfort, batfamily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:31:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 76,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustMakeLeftTurns/pseuds/JustMakeLeftTurns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In our world, Elle had always believed Batman was real. After all, the best way to hide one's existence is to hide in plain sight: comic books and cartoons. But when Bruce Wayne decides to adopt her, Elle discovers that life with the Batfamily isn't all it's cracked up to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life Isn't Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Part One: Life and Living
> 
> Elle struggles with the concept of being adopted by previously fictional characters. She has to balance her new life, her old life, and the life that she wants. But even though she now lives with her heroes, she still has to get through normal high school problems. Eventually.
> 
> WARNINGS: language

ELLE

Life isn’t easy. Adults always tell you about the ‘real world’ and how when you’re a kid, everything seems surreal, as if nothing bad can ever happen to you. They tell you to enjoy your childhood while it lasts, because once you get to the ‘real world,’ everything changes. Childhood is fun and easy and, while you may go through some tough patches, it’s all worth it.

Everything the adults tell you, every word that comes out of their mouths, is a lie. I realized this early on. My parents and teachers taught me and my classmates to be nice and to respect each other. They told me that being nice to someone else means that they will be nice back. I’m the only one who ever paid attention to that rule. It’s what got me into a lot of trouble in my elementary and middle school years.

When I was five, I discovered the wonderful world of Batman. Just the cartoons, but still. They influenced me growing up just as the adults surrounding me did. I mean, in the Batman cartoons, if you were nice to someone, then they became good. Or they became nicer. So it looked like being nice or smiling at someone really did make his or her day. That’s part of what shaped me into who I am now. 

Despite my shyness and insecurity, I did my best to smile at someone who looked lonely, or to help someone pick up papers that had fallen all over the floor. Again, this only got my ridiculed and distanced me from my classmates.

In my darkest times, when my parents fought – as much as they loved me, they didn’t seem to love each other – and when my older brother moved on to the ‘cool’ crowd of high school while I was a dorky middle school student, the only thing that I could rely on was Batman. I watched and re-watched episodes and even went to see the live action movie when it came out. You could say I was obsessed. I was hooked. I admired Batman. I felt connected to Robin – all versions of him. I was intrigued by Jason Todd, the Red Hood.

And so, to help handle the stress of my parents’ arguing and my brother’s unintentional neglect of me, I started to research everything I could about the Batman universe. Cartoons, movies, backstories, anything and everything I could find out. It helped me to focus on something else, something other than being alone. I mean, my family loved me, it’s just that I was so quiet and introverted that they thought that I just didn’t want to spend time with them. In the end, I’m glad they left me alone.

Because Batman is real.

It hit me three years ago, when I was fourteen. The best way to keep hidden is to hide in plain sight. And what is more in plain sight than cartoons and movies? I became a bit of a conspiracy theorist, I guess. Maybe the government knows about Batman and is trying to protect him? Anything is possible, right?

But before I could try to look any deeper into this idea, my parents and brother were killed. I’d stayed after school for some extra help in algebra, so I wasn’t there. Apparently, the house caught on fire and my family couldn’t get out. The fire department was on the other side of town, and they got to my home too late. Imagine my horror when I got home from school to see police and neighbors and ambulances and fire trucks … Imagine my horror when I was put into the foster care system.

I was in shock and maybe a bit in denial during the next few months, so I couldn’t tell you what happened exactly. All I knew was that I was suddenly living with foster parents and two other foster kids. One of them, Derek, didn’t talk but he scared me. It was like he looked right into my soul every time he stared at me. I stayed away from him the best I could, and then started avoiding him altogether. I’m sure he was nice … but the fact was, he terrified me, even though he was a few years younger than me. And that was that.

The other foster kid, Chiara, to put it simply, was a whiny and spoiled brat. I tried to like her, I really did. I tried being nice to her. I tried to understand what could have made her the way she was. But in the end, all she did was make fun of me.

One thing I learned about the foster care system is that there are two types of families: foster parents who genuinely cared, and foster parents who didn’t. My foster parents were the latter. They neglected Derek, Chiara, and I to the point where we wouldn’t always have food. They didn’t buy me any new clothes – all of which were destroyed in the fire, save the ones on my back – so I had to share Chiara’s, which pinched in some places and hung off of me in others.

So that’s how I’ve been living for the past few years. Barely.

And then it got worse, a few months ago. I always got sick during the winter, except this time, it was bad. It turned from the common cold into bronchitis. When it seemed to turn back into a cold, I thought I would get over it. Instead, it came back with a vengeance a few weeks later as pneumonia. I didn’t even realize it was pneumonia. But as I steadily got worse, despite the fact that it was quickly becoming the middle of the spring, I realized that my illness had gotten serious.

I told my foster parents that I should go to the doctor, just in case. They kept refusing. Finally, though, I’d had enough. I wasn’t getting any better and I was beginning to get scared, so I decided to steal some money from my foster parents so that I could get a taxi to drive me to the doctor’s. It ended up that I didn’t have enough money to go to the doctor’s office, so I went to the hospital, which was a lot nearer to the house.

Skipping over the boring parts, I was told that I had severe pneumonia. The doctor or nurse or whoever – I was really out of it at that point – insisted that I stayed overnight. One night turned into two. And now, I’ve been here about a week. I’ve missed a lot of school, but I’m mostly thinking about my foster family. My foster father came in once, for appearance’s sake, but other than that, I’ve been on my own. I’ve gotten better, but now I fear going back to the house.

I don’t have the money to pay for the hospital treatment. I don’t have the money to pay back my foster parents for the money I stole. I don’t have health insurance, and I highly doubt my foster parents will help pay for my hospital stay. I’m on my own.

And I wish, for the gazillion-th time, that all the members of the Batfamily were real. At least then I’d have someone to talk to.

//\\\

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 6

I jolted awake, breathing heavily. I heard the heart monitor beeping quickly. I wished, once more, that the nurses would disconnect me from that. And from the IV. Hospitals creeped me out, more so since I was currently alone. The other hospital bed in the room was empty and had been for most of my stay here. And the nightmares I kept having about my family’s deaths seemed scarier when it was dark in a hospital.

It was morning, which meant I was due for a visit from the nurse who checked up on me the most – Alice. She was nice and genuinely cared about my health, something I was grateful for. Unfortunately, she had other patients to attend to – well, duh – so I only got to speak to her the two or three times a day she came in to check my breathing. And stuff. I had no idea what she checked, honestly. And I didn’t particularly care to know.

I’d grown to like Alice, though. I even talked about how much I liked Batman. It was better to have a mostly-onesided conversation about Batman than have the room be silent. Or worse, have Alice talk about my vitals. I’d rather not know, unless I’m healthy enough to leave. I think Alice liked me, though. She let me keep my Batman necklace on even though I shouldn’t. That gained her brownie points.

Alice came into the room with whatever the hospital dared call breakfast. She did whatever it was nurses did to patients – checked the charts, etc. – and then gave me the food.

“So when can I leave?” I asked. I was eager to go, but I still dreaded the foster family back at the house. I wasn’t sure which one was the lesser of the two evils, but at least at the house, I wasn’t alone for most of the time.

“Your vitals are getting better,” Alice told me. “And your fever is nearly gone. You’re still suffering a little from dehydration, so we have to keep the IV in still.” I resisted the urge to look at the IV needle in my hand. Needles creeped me out. Having one in my hand was worse. “But you should be able to leave in a couple of days.”

“Okay,” I said simply.

“Because you’re under eighteen, you need a parent or legal guardian to sign,” Alice informed me. My heart skipped a beat. Stupid heart monitor. I wondered if either of my foster parents would even let me leave. What if they left me here in the hospital? What would happen then?

Suddenly not hungry, I put down my fork. Alice grabbed my tray when I motioned I was finished. She was just about out the door when she turned back towards me.

“Oh, I made arrangements for you,” she said, smiling brightly. I didn’t like the look in her eye. “You’ll be having visitors this afternoon.”

“Visitors?” I asked, astonished. I was suddenly very self-conscious and very aware of the fact that I’d showered maybe once this week. Not to mention, who would visit me? I didn’t have any friends. And my foster family was definitely not coming in to see me.

“You’ll see,” Alice winked and then she left. I groaned. I was suddenly not looking forward to the afternoon.

To pass the time, as I’d done for the past week, I read magazines that Alice and some other nurse who’d taken pity on me had brought. Of course, I wasn’t a magazine-reading person, plus I’d read the same magazines what felt like a bazillion times already, so it wasn’t anything exciting. I lied down and tried to sleep a couple of times, but my mind raced with Batman and with questions of who would be visiting me.

At 3:00, Alice knocked on the door. It was a bit early for her to be checking me over again, so I assumed that my supposed visitors had arrived. I looked up from where I was making fun of models in a magazine. Alice came into the room, a wide smile on her face.

“You’re going to love this,” she told me. I shot her a confused look. And then I noticed who had come into the room with her.

Now, cartoons are very different to how people would look in real life, but, as a hardcore-ish Batman fan, I recognized the three people anywhere. Handsome, older, charming smile – Bruce Wayne. Equally as handsome, early to mid-twenties, mischievous twinkle in his eyes – Dick Grayson. Pretty-boy, around my age, a bit of a shy smile – Tim Drake.

But, of course, I couldn’t be sure. Okay, I was sure, but what if I was wrong? So I shut my gaping mouth and turned to Alice, who was still smiling as she checked over my chart or whatever.

“I know how much you like the … ‘Batfamily,’ I think you called it,” Alice said. I blushed and Dick snorted back laughter. “And I know someone who knows someone who … well, here they are, in any case.”

I just stared, defaulting to being shy rather than fangirl. Bruce Wayne - holy shit, Bruce freaking Wayne – walked over to the side of my bed and held out a hand.

“Bruce Wayne,” he said. “Nice to meet you, miss …?”

“Elle,” I said quietly. Maybe too quietly, but I couldn’t help it. I took his hand and shook it the best I could without ripping out the IV.

Dick and Tim introduced themselves. Alice explained to them how I was a big fan – with me blushing more and more with every word – and how I was apparently very obviously bored and lonely. I liked her, but I was glad when she finally left.

That’s when I realized that three of my heroes were in the same room as me. And they were staring at me. I shifted uncomfortably, disliking the attention I was being given.

“How long have you been here?” Bruce asked me.

“About a week,” I replied. At their questioning stares, I added, “Severe pneumonia. But I should be leaving in a couple of days.”

“And is that all you’ve had for entertainment?” Dick nodded towards the magazines. I shrugged.

“Not really my thing, but it’s better than nothing.”

There was an awkward silence as no one could think of anything to say. I bit my lip.

“Sorry,” I told them. “I’m not exactly exciting. And I don’t know why you would want to talk to some random girl in a hospital. You don’t have to stay.” Even though I wanted them to, I knew that it would be selfish to try to keep them there. They had better things to do.

“Hey, anything to help keep you distracted from all this,” Dick said. Tim nodded in agreement.

“Hospitals aren’t fun,” he said.

“I suppose you can’t wait to get out of here,” Bruce said. I nodded slowly.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I hate the hospital, but it’s not like home’s any better.” I stifled a gasp. Why had I just said that? Me and my stupid mouth.

“What do you mean?” Tim asked.

“It’s nothing,” I said. Maybe a bit too quickly.

“No, it’s not,” Bruce said. I bit my lip and lowered my gaze. His Batman side was showing. I really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that. I had no choice but to give in if I didn’t want to be yelled at.

“My foster family isn’t the greatest,” I said carefully, as if it was no big deal. “It’s not the worst, though. I’m not hit or anything.” At Bruce’s stare, I went on, “It’s mostly that I’m going to be in a lot of trouble when I get back.” Great. The one thing I shouldn’t have said to the Batfamily, and I said it.

“What kind of trouble?” Tim questioned. I was starting to feel claustrophobic. My hands started sweating. I really didn’t like the way this first – and probably last – meeting with my heroes was turning out.

I fiddled with the edges of the hospital sheets, my fingers trembling. “Nothing too bad,” I said. “It’s just that I can’t afford the hospital bill. And my foster parents aren’t exactly the spending-money type.”

“I’ll pay the bill,” Bruce said abruptly. Surprised and guilty, I looked up at him. 

“But –”

“I’ll pay it,” Bruce said, final. I went to protest again – I didn’t want him to spend his money on me – but Dick interrupted.

“Don’t bother to argue,” he smirked. “He has this thing about helping kids.” 

I grinned sheepishly. “Thank you,” I told Bruce.

Bruce smiled. “You’re welcome.”

He glanced at his watch. He headed towards the door.

“It was very nice to meet you,” he told me before stepping out into the hallway. Tim nodded goodbye at me and Dick waved.

“Bye,” I said.

It didn’t hit me until later that night. But when it did, I started crying. Happy crying. I’d gotten to meet my heroes. And Bruce was going to pay for my hospital bill.

Now there was only one thing to worry about: the foster family.


	2. Life Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle is finally released from the hospital. While back at her foster family's house, she gets some unexpected visitors - and an unexpected proposal.

ELLE

Life is constantly changing. That’s one thing that they don’t really teach you in school. Maybe the odd teacher here and there will make a passing mention of it, but no one really explains it. There is no set ‘fate’ for anyone. There are so many different ways a person’s life can go. 

I thought that mine would be pretty straightforward: go to school, go to college, get a job in an office (no matter how boring that would be), have a family. After my family’s deaths, my life took a turn. I figured that my life would be something like: go to school, get a job, maybe go to college, have a family.

And then I met the Batfamily. It wasn’t for very long. Less than an hour. But it reminded me that life always throws something at you that you don’t expect, for better or for worse, and you have to deal with it. You can’t plan your life out because who knows when something is going to change?

I was excited after the Batfamily left because I’d been right. They were real. They weren’t just fictional characters who I was borderline obsessed with. They were living, breathing people. And Bruce Wayne was going to pay for my hospital bill, which made me breathe a little easier.

Of course, that was probably the only time I would ever get to meet them. I’m glad it happened, though. It certainly made me happier. And saved me some time researching – I’d never gotten around to looking deeper into the Batman universe, mostly because I was just trying to survive foster care. The Batfamily was nice, though. They really were.

Too bad I would probably never see them again.

//\\\

THURSDAY, JUNE 7

Another nightmare woke me up at dawn. I’d had them off and on since I was fourteen. They just happened more here in the hospital, probably because I hated hospitals. And being alone. It took me a little longer to get over the nightmare – almost always the same one – but I finally was able to calm my racing heart.

I was bored out of my mind for the billionth time that week. Now that I was nearly healthy enough to leave, I was becoming even more restless. At least Alice took out the IV when she came by. But the heart monitor had to stay connected, for whatever reason.

After meeting Bruce, Dick, and Tim, reading boring magazines (again) made me want to throw something at the wall. I didn’t, but I still wanted to. When I ran out of models to make fun of, I started folding the pages of the magazines. Yes, I was that bored.

A little after my lunchtime, the door opened. I looked up from the magazine in my hands. I tried to hide my surprise when Bruce, Dick, and Tim entered. Of course, the heart monitor revealed it, the traitor. I put the magazine to the side and tried to sit up a bit more, only to be hit with a slight dizzy spell. I ignored it until it went away a few moments later. I smiled at my visitors.

“Hi,” I greeted, not really knowing what else to say. Bruce sat in the chair next to my bed. Tim dragged another chair from the other side of the room to sit on my other side. Dick sat on the end of my bed. I shifted nervously. Had I done something wrong? I was quickly feeling trapped. And I didn’t like it one bit.

My worries were for naught, though, as each of them smiled and said hello in turn.

“How are you feeling?” Tim asked.

I grinned. “Getting better.”

“They took the IV out,” Bruce noticed. I nodded.

“I’m guessing that’s a good sign,” I half-joked. I guessed my shyness from yesterday had vanished, at least somewhat. At least I was talking back. And not practically whispering.

“So,” Dick started, smile on his face. I was very, very wary of him. “You’re a fan of the … ‘Batfamily’?”

I groaned and put my head in my hands. I felt the skin on my face and the back of my neck heat up. I was hoping that we would never have this conversation. But really, what did I expect? I heard Dick chuckle. I felt all of their stares on me, waiting for my answer. I couldn’t bring myself to speak, so I shrugged.

“That’s not an answer!” Dick playfully whined.

“I want to know what she thinks,” Tim added to my embarrassment. I looked up and shot him a half-hearted glare. He smirked in response.

“I dunno,” I stated simply, shrugging again.

“Who’s your favorite?” Dick pestered me. “It’s me, isn’t it? The first Boy Wonder, the great Nightwing!”

“Great at boasting, more like,” Tim muttered, smile on his face.

“Leave her alone, you two,” Bruce said. I smiled at him gratefully.

“But I’m curious!” Dick pouted. I couldn’t help but laugh. He was ridiculous but entertaining, I’d give him that. Dick smiled in apparent victory as I laughed.

“You feel an emotion other than shyness!” Dick exclaimed mockingly.

I pouted. “Shut up,” I whined, crossing my arms.

“It’s good to see you coming out of your shell,” Bruce commented. I resisted the urge to hide my head in my hands again. I clenched my hands in an attempt to push away my shyness.

“We should be going,” Tim said. I waved goodbye to them as they left for the second time.

This time, I didn’t cry – not even happy tears. I laughed. Because they’d so easily gained my trust. They’d so easily gotten me to laugh and be a bit more open in their presence. I hadn’t been close enough to anyone to do that in a long time.

//\\\

FRIDAY, JUNE 8

I really shouldn’t have been surprised when Dick came in just before noon. He smiled widely and held a plastic shopping bag in the air.

“I bring thee food!” he exclaimed. I laughed.

“You didn’t have to,” I told him. Dick sat in the chair beside me and plopped the bag on my legs. I grinned shyly. “Thanks.”

In the bag were a turkey and cheese sandwich, crackers, grapes, a small container with what looked like mashed potatoes in it, a bottle of water, and a Hershey’s chocolate bar.

“It was Alfred’s idea,” Dick explained. “Except for the chocolate. That was all me.”

I smiled. “Thank you.” Finally, some real food. I started eating.

After a few seconds of silence, Dick said, “This place is boring.”

I nodded. “All I have are the same magazines. And no one will let me get up and walk around.”

“Do you know when you’re allowed to leave?”

“Tomorrow. That is, if I can get someone to sign the form or whatever.” I had no idea what it was my foster parents had to sign. Nor did I know what would happen if no one signed for me. Couldn’t I just sign for myself?

“Why don’t your foster family come and visit you?” Dick asked. The question was said lightheartedly but his expression was serious. I shrugged; the answer for everything.

“They’re just my foster family,” I replied, pretending it didn’t matter. And, really, it didn’t. Really. “It doesn’t matter.”

“So, what, they just dropped you off here and never came back?” Dick asked incredulously.

“Kind of …”

“Well, do your friends visit you?”

“I don’t have any,” I admitted quietly, nibbling on a cracker. I was embarrassed that I didn’t have any friends. I mean, who wants to talk to someone like that?

“’Course you do!” Dick told me. “You have me!”

I just shrugged. I didn’t consider us friends. We’d only met a couple of times. And besides, I knew all about him while he knew next to nothing about me. Therefore, we weren’t friends. Just a hero and a fan, that was all.

Dick seemed to sense that I didn’t like the direction the conversation was going and changed the subject. We played a couple of games – Eye Spy, Tic Tac Toe, Hangman, stuff like that. After he got a call on his cell phone, he turned to me apologetically.

“Sorry. Duty calls.”

It was then that I remembered that he was a policeman during the day. I guessed that I was so caught up with the mask that I forgot that there was someone without the mask, too.

I went to wave goodbye, but was thoroughly surprised when Dick leaned over and gave me a hug. I stiffened, unused to hugs, but eventually hugged back. He pulled away, mock saluted me, then left.

Only a few hours later, I received another visitor. This time, it was Tim. He had a laptop case with him. I assumed that he was on his way to or from the library or something, so I was shocked when he handed the case over to me.

“Happy get-well gift, I suppose,” Tim smiled. I blinked in surprise.

“What?” was all I could get out.

“Well, you said you were bored, and Dick agreed,” Tim explained. 

“So you got me a laptop,” I deadpanned. “I can’t accept this. It’s expensive …”

“Bruce insists,” Tim grinned. He sat down as I unzipped the case, revealing the plain black laptop inside. I couldn’t stop smiling. I felt guilty that Bruce had gotten me this, but at the same time, I was really happy.

I closed the case. I didn’t want to use it while I actually had someone to talk to. Unfortunately, the visitor’s hours were soon up, and Tim was forced to leave. I called out another thank you as he left.

//\\\

SATURDAY, JUNE 9

The next morning, as soon as I’d had my breakfast, Alice told me that my foster father had signed whatever papers needed signing. Apparently, he was waiting in the lobby for me. I gulped. I took a quick shower, dressed in the same clothes I’d come in with, and grabbed my laptop. I was glad to be leaving but terrified of what was about to happen.

My foster father didn’t say anything. As soon as he saw me, he started walking towards his car. I had trouble keeping up – staying in a hospital bed for about a week does that to you, I guessed. I collapsed into the passenger seat. As soon as we were out of the parking lot, my foster father broke his silence.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he steamed. I looked out the window, too scared to answer. I wasn’t sure he even wanted an answer. “You stole our money. And now we have to pay those medical bills!”

I wanted to tell him that Bruce was paying, but didn’t want to anger him further. He’d probably rant about strangers. Or maybe try to use that as an excuse to get rid of me. So I kept quiet. I cringed as his voice rose louder and louder with every word. I let him yell. I just zoned out.

The minute I stumbled into the house, I was met with my foster mother’s sneer. She said something about me being ungrateful. I just walked away. Surprisingly, no one had noticed the laptop yet. All I had to do was get to the room I shared with Chiara. Unfortunately, that required stairs. And my legs could barely support my weight walking on a flat surface.

It took me five whole minutes to make my way up the staircase, all the while my foster parents yelled and complained at me. Derek saw me coming up the stairs and went into his room. Chiara mocked the difficulty I was having with the stairs. I didn’t know exactly what she said. Something about me being useless, I thought. But a headache was quickly forming, plus I was in pain from climbing the stairs.

Chiara, thankfully, left me alone as soon as I made it to my bed. The yelling from my foster parents stopped, as well. I hid my laptop under my bed and collapsed.

What a wonderful welcome back this had been.

//\\\

SUNDAY, JUNE 10

I spent my first full day back at the house in bed. This time, at least, I had my laptop. Chiara was whining about how hungry she was somewhere downstairs. Derek was probably in his room. My foster mother was out at the mall. My foster father was telling Chiara how ungrateful she was. The same old argument.

I managed to get internet on my laptop, for once glad that my foster parents had internet connection, even if they never let us use it. All day, I just streamed Batman cartoons on Netflix or on youtube. I didn’t have earphones, so I had to keep the volume down, lest someone hear it and realize that I had a laptop.

The doorbell rang. I was surprised. No one ever came to the house. I ignored it and continued watching my cartoons. I looked up, deer in headlights look probably on my face, as the bedroom door opened. I paused the video when I saw it was Bruce. I sat up, smiling widely. I placed the laptop to the side and stood.

“Thank you so, so much,” I told him. “For everything.” The bills, the food (well, that was Alfred, but still), the laptop … It was all too much.

“You’re welcome,” Bruce replied. He eyed the way I was having trouble on my feet. “You should sit down.” I did so, sure that he would make me sit if I didn’t.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him.

“I met your foster father,” Bruce said, sitting on the bed beside me. “He’s … interesting.”

I snorted. “Yeah. Interesting.”

“He doesn’t like you,” Bruce stated. I nodded in agreement.

“He and Claire – my foster mother – don’t like any of us,” I admitted. Thinking Bruce was going to go tell social services or something, I hurriedly added, “But it’s really no big deal.”

“Tell me this,” Bruce looked at me. I looked down at my hands. “If your foster parents don’t like foster kids, then why did they take you guys in?”

“They get money from the state,” I explained. I shrugged. “Really, it’s no big deal.”

Bruce went to reply, but Chiara entered the room. Upon seeing Bruce, she stuck her nose in the air and crossed her arms so her cleavage showed more.

“You don’t want to be in here,” she said. I blushed at her attempts to flirt. Bruce was never going to want to talk to me again, now. “She’s a loser. You should talk to someone like me.” 

Bruce stood up. I pushed back tears. I knew it.

“It’s time that I be going, thank you,” Bruce said. “It was nice meeting you.” To me, he said, “It’s good to see you on your feet.” And then he left.

Chiara whined at me and complained about how much of a loser I was and that I had scared him off. I let her rant. When she had her back turned, I hid my laptop back under the bed. That had been a close one. I was very lucky that my foster family seemed oblivious to what was right in front of them.

Unfortunately, I was stuck with them until I turned eighteen. And then I would be thrown out. And where would I go, then? For once, my foster parents were right. I was ungrateful. So what if I never see Bruce, Dick, and Tim again? At least I have a roof to live under. For now.

MONDAY, JUNE 11

I was alone in the house today. Derek and Chiara were with friends. My foster parents were on a date or something. I sat in the living room and watched more Batman cartoons. It was early afternoon when the doorbell rang. Trying not to get my hopes high, I opened the door. Bruce had come back. I smiled and moved aside. Bruce entered the house. I closed the door behind him.

“Sorry about Chiara yesterday,” I apologized. “She’s always like that.”

“Elle,” Bruce stopped me from making any more apologies. I bit my lip. Did I do something wrong? “I want to talk to you about you and your foster family.”

My eyes widened. What if he was going to tell my social worker? What if I was taken away to a different – read: worse – foster family? I’d grown used to my only foster family’s dynamics. I didn’t want to relearn how to deal with new people. Or what if I was sent to a girls’ home, or whatever they were? I’d heard those were worse.

“You aren’t happy here,” Bruce told me. I opened my mouth to protest – anything to keep me from being sent somewhere worse – but Bruce didn’t let me. “Don’t lie to me.” 

I fiddled with my hands. “Please don’t tell anyone,” I begged quietly. “I can deal with it. And I’m out of here as soon as I’m eighteen.”

“I know how the foster care system works,” Bruce said. My heart sank. So he knew that I would be kicked out. “And I don’t think that’s right.”

“Well, what can you do?” I asked rhetorically, turning away.

Bruce placed a hand on my shoulder and gently turned me back around to face him. “I want to adopt you.”

I blinked. I couldn’t have heard that right. There was no way I could have heard that right. Bruce Wayne – Bruce freaking Wayne – a man who knew me for only a few days – wanted to adopt me. Me. A random, shy, strange, teenaged girl.

“You don’t even know me,” was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

“And you don’t know me,” Bruce said. “Not really. But I want to help. I won’t push you to do anything, but I want you to let me adopt you.”

Of course, my brain to mouth filter stopped functioning. “You really have a soft spot for orphans,” I said sarcastically. I blushed as soon as I heard what I’d said.

Bruce, though, seemed to agree. He smiled. “So, what do you think?” I shrugged. “Think about it for a while. Let me know when you’ve decided, either way.” Bruce made to leave.

“Wait.” My thoughts raced. This could be great. This could be really, really great. I’d be family with Batman, Nightwing, and Robin. I’d have a place to belong. I wouldn’t be kicked out in a few months. I might even be able to go to college.

“Okay,” I breathed, still amazed. I smiled and looked at Bruce. “Yes. Yes, you can adopt me.”


	3. Life's Lemons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle tries to get used to the idea of adoption and begins having some doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language

ELLE

Life gave me lemons and I made lemonade. Well, I was given the sugar and the glass. I just chose to stir it all together. Although I wonder if it’s too sweet. After all, too much sugar will ruin the lemonade just as too many lemons will.

I still can’t believe that Bruce Wayne, someone who was a fictional character until recently, wants to adopt me. I wanted to say no and yes at the same time. I’m excited and overjoyed, though. My heroes are going to become my family. Well, on paper, at least. That’s something, right? And living with Bruce is a lot better than with my foster family.

A part of me is worried that I’m getting ahead of myself, that it’s all too good to be true. What if I’m actually in a coma and this is all a dream? Meeting the Batfamily, being adopted by Bruce … And why oh why did I say yes? I should have waited. I should have thought about it. I can always back out, I know this, but I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Not to mention, a really do want to be adopted. It’s a dream come true.

I’m not looking to replace my real family. I hope that Bruce understands this. My parents will always be my parents and my brother will always be my brother. I suppose that’s one reason I’m getting cold feet about my adoption. It’s a huge step away from my real family. I don’t want to give them up. I don’t want them to be disappointed in me because I’m getting a new adopted family. And I don’t want my new adopted family to be replacements because they are more than that.

And then there’s the fact that I really don’t know Bruce, Dick, and Tim. Not really. I know how they’re portrayed in cartoons and movies. But in real life, I’m clueless. What if we end up hating each other? What if they’re already mad at me for agreeing to the adoption? I never thought about what they would think about it. What if they think that Bruce is moving on from them? I don’t want to cause any strain between them and Bruce. And I don’t want them to hate me, either.

Maybe I really did make that lemonade too sweet.

//\\\

TUESDAY, JUNE 19

It’d been a little over a week since I’d agreed to be adopted. I hadn’t seen Dick or Tim, which only furthered my paranoia that they were angry. Bruce had stopped by a few days ago to tell me that he was working on some papers that would legally allow me to live with him. It was probably to make him my legal guardian, or something. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was stuck living with my foster family, who had discovered that I was going to be adopted.

My foster parents were furious, to say the least. Honestly, they were just upset that as soon as I was living with Bruce, they wouldn’t be given money from the state. That money would go towards Bruce, seeing as he would become my legal guardian. I think. I wasn’t sure how it worked. Either way, my foster parents wouldn’t receive any more money.

I was yelled at a lot, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. I stayed in my room most of the time, partly to avoid them, and partly because I was still recovering from pneumonia. I was still a bit shaky-legged and occasionally became short of breath. And, of course, exhaustion. I’d improved a lot in the past week, but due to the lack of food and medication, it was slow going.

Chiara was overjoyed that I was leaving. She was also jealous that Bruce was adopting me. I think a part of her wished that she could get out of this foster family as well, but knew that it could also be worse. Or, well, she could just be a whiny brat. I wasn’t sure which one.

Derek was Derek. I rarely saw him, and when I did, he just stared. I was glad that he was also big on staying in his room.

Today, though, was a good day. Once again, I was left alone in the house. I made my way downstairs to the living room, just as I had before. I was about to watch The Dark Knight Returns when the doorbell rang. Hoping it was Bruce, I answered the door. I was surprised to see Dick and Tim.

“Hi,” I said quietly. They entered the house, greeting me in return. I sat down on the couch. Dick sat beside me and Tim sat in the chair across from me.

“Sorry we haven’t come by,” Tim said. “Things have been a bit … hectic.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Did he mean Batman hectic? Or adoption process hectic? Was it my fault? I just shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Now, the question of the day,” Dick grinned. “How does it feel like to be getting adopted?”

I blinked. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” At Dick and Tim’s confused faces, I added, “I mean, I never thought about what you guys might think. Aren’t you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would we be mad?” Dick furrowed his brow. “I think it’s great.”

Tim nodded in agreement. “Did you think that we would be jealous or something?” Dick’s eyes widened in realization.

I blushed. “I dunno. I guess.” I looked down at my lap. “And you don’t know me. I’m just going to mess everything up.”

“Hey, look at me.” I raised my eyes to meet Dick’s, surprised at how gentle his voice was. “You’re not going to mess anything up. I promise.”

“We don’t know you,” Tim agreed with my statement. I looked over at him. “But we can get to know each other.” I grinned.

“I’ll ask again,” Dick grinned. “How’re you feeling?”

“Nervous,” I admitted. “Excited.”

“That’s normal,” Tim assured me. “I felt the same way.”

“But I’m also really scared, like this is all going to be ripped away from me,” I blurted. And once the words started, I couldn’t stop them. I rubbed my arms and stared at the floor. “For so long, you guys have been my heroes. I practically worshipped you. And now that I know you’re real and that Bruce is going to adopt me? It’s too good to be true, and I’m scared.”

Dick reached over promptly and gave me a hug. Again, I stiffened, but was able to relax much quicker this time. I held back my tears. The last thing I wanted to do was cry like a child.

“You don’t have to be scared,” Tim said. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Dick rubbed my back. I breathed shakily, trying to prevent myself from crying. I pulled away, suddenly uncomfortable and claustrophobic. I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t want anyone to look at me. I did my best to compose myself.

“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “You’re right. I was just being stupid.”

“Elle –”

“My foster parents will be home soon,” I interrupted Tim. “Trust me, you don’t want to meet them.”

Dick sighed and reached over to give me a hug. At the last minute, he decided against it and stood up. He ran a hand through his hair. He shot me a grin before leaving. Tim waved goodbye.

And suddenly I was alone.

//\\\

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 20

I was woken up to the sound of my foster father yelling at me.

“Get up, you useless bitch!” he shouted. “That pretty-boy is here for you!”

Before my sleep-induced brain could figure out who he was talking about, Bruce entered the room. He stared steadily at my foster father.

“Thank you, I think that’s enough,” he said calmly, although I noticed the anger in his eyes. My foster father shot me one last glare.

From the other bed, Chiara peered out from beneath her sheets. “Are you leaving?”

Unsure of the answer, I sat up and looked over at Bruce, who nodded. “I received notification this morning,” he told me. “You are now allowed to live with me until the adoption process is complete.”

I smiled and sat up. I looked down at my – or rather, Chiara’s – pajamas. “Can I get dressed first?”

Bruce nodded and left the room. I found the only set of clothes that were truly mine and started changing into them, ignoring Chiara.

“Will you come back?” she asked me as I pulled my shirt over my head.

“Probably not,” I admitted. I slipped into my jeans and flip-flops. I grabbed my laptop and case.

“Hey, Elle?” I turned warily to Chiara. “Sorry.”

I shrugged. “S’okay.” It wasn’t. It really wasn’t, but I didn’t want to start a fight on the day that I moved out.

I exited the room. Bruce stood there patiently.

“Is that all you have?” he asked, concern on his face. I shrugged.

“I lost everything in a fire,” I said simply.

Bruce didn’t ask, but he seemed to know what I was implying. He led me outside, where a car was waiting. And standing outside the car was who I assumed was Alfred. I smiled shyly.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Miss Elle,” Alfred greeted as he opened the backseat door for me. I climbed in. Bruce sat beside me. I never understood why no one ever sat in the passenger seat with the driver of a celebrity or whatever, but I kept my mouth shut.

Alfred and Bruce sensed my shyness, I guess, because neither spoke to me. I looked out the window, trying to figure out where we were going.

Finally, I couldn’t ignore my curiosity any longer. “Where are we going? Gotham doesn’t actually exist, does it?”

“I assure you that Gotham does exist,” Alfred told me, a hint of a smile on his face. I blushed.

“But wouldn’t everyone go looking for you?” I asked. “And I’ve never seen Gotham on any maps.”

“That’s because Gotham isn’t on any maps,” Bruce explained. “The same with Bludhaven.”

“So because they’re not on any maps, no one goes looking?” I guessed, looking at Bruce. He nodded, surprised.

“That’s right,” he said. “Anyone who goes through Gotham by chance never makes the connection. And if they do, well, it’s not as if anyone will believe them.”

I let the conversation drop. We drove for a few hours until we finally made it to what I assumed was Gotham. I certainly recognized some of the buildings from the cartoons. That reminded me –

“Why cartoons? And movies?” I asked. “Were you told they were made? Did you ask? Does this mean that someone knows you’re real?”

“We’re hidden in plain sight,” Bruce told me what I already knew. “That way, if someone claims to have seen Batman, then no one will believe him.”

“But how did it start?”

“Master Bruce, Miss Elle, we have arrived,” Alfred cut off anything Bruce was going to say. I ignored the fact that Bruce didn’t answer and that Alfred conveniently spoke up. Instead, I looked up at Wayne Manor.

Alfred pulled up in front of the doors. Bruce and I entered the building. That was when it really and truly hit me: Batman was real. The building was huge. I suddenly felt very, very small and out of place. My excitement faded into uncertainty. I grasped my laptop bag with two hands, the only thing I was willing to grab onto.

Bruce led me on a tour of the building. I was lost within a few minutes, but I didn’t tell him that. It would take some getting used to, but I’d figure it out. Bruce brought me to the kitchen, where Tim was eating at the table. Alfred placed two more plates of food at the table. Bruce sat at one seat. I stood, not sure if I was allowed to sit. Tim smiled at me and gestured at a seat.

Tim and Alfred talked. I just sat there, eating and soaking in the fact that I was in Wayne Manor. Bruce finished eating and left, saying he had a press conference or something.

“Miss Elle, are you alright?” Alfred asked. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m still getting used to all this.”

“You’ve barely eaten,” Tim noticed. I shrugged.

“It’s more than what I got before.” Immediately afterwards, I wanted to take back those words. It would only cause them to worry.

And, of course, worry they did. “They starved you?” Tim asked incredulously, eyes wide.

“It’s no big deal,” I protested.

“I have to disagree,” Alfred spoke up. “You are not allowed to leave the table until you’ve finished your food.”

I nodded in agreement. I understood where they were coming from. I mean, I barely ate enough as it was, and then I rarely ate when I was with my foster family. I ate the rest of lunch without a fuss. Alfred took the plates and went over to the sink.

“I can help,” I said, standing up.

“I’ve got it,” Alfred told me. “Why don’t you and Master Timothy go talk?”

I knew when I was being dismissed and followed Tim out of the room.

“Did Bruce show you your room yet?” Tim asked.

I shrugged. “Sort of. He put my laptop in one of the rooms and said it was mine, but I don’t know how to get there.”

“I can show you,” Tim said, leading me upstairs. We went down two corridors before stopping in front of a room. “This is yours. Mine is that one,” he pointed to the room across the hall. “And Bruce’s is down that way.” He pointed to a room that was three doors down. “And when Dick stays here, that’s his room.” He pointed to the room beside his.

I smiled. “Thanks.” I fiddled with my hands nervously, not really sure what to say.

Tim grinned widely. “Want to see the Batcave?”

“Am I allowed to?” I asked.

“Who cares?” Tim led me to where I knew the entrance was. But seeing it in a cartoon and seeing it in real life are two very different things. He began walking down the stairs to the Batcave. I hesitated, a little nervous. What if Bruce didn’t want me to see? What if he got mad at me?

“Well? Are you coming?” Tim called up to me.

I took a quick glance behind me before following Tim into the Batcave. It was a lot more impressive in person than it was in cartoons. I stood in the center and turned slowly, taking it all in.

“This is amazing,” I breathed.

After looking around the Batcave some more, Tim and I returned upstairs. Tim taught me how to play some video game, which we played for a couple of hours. Afterwards, he took me to the Gotham library and showed me some of the places that were popular – a couple of shops, ice cream parlors, diners, stuff like that. We passed the school, which also looked daunting. I was relieved when we returned to the manor; I was in no way a city girl.

Alfred made an amazing dinner, and then I headed up to my room, getting lost only once and even then I was able to find my way. Tim gave me some of his and Dick’s clothes to wear – “until we get you your own” – so I used one of Dick’s shirts as pajamas and slipped into my bed.

It was dark and lonely. It was only Alfred and me in the manor. Tim and Bruce were out patrolling, I assumed. No one ever said anything, but I guessed that they figured it was a given where they were. Alfred was probably in the Batcave somewhere. I was alone in a huge bedroom. I brought out my laptop and streamed Batman: Under the Red Hood.

And that was when I remembered Jason. Was he in Gotham somewhere? Were he and the rest of the Batfamily still on bad terms? After all, no one had mentioned him. I wanted to ask Alfred, but what if talking about Jason was taboo here? I was curious, but I decided to keep quiet about it. No need to stir up trouble.


	4. New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle does her best to adjust to the manor.

ELLE

People say that you only live one life. That’s great and all, but I disagree. It’s true that you only live once, but to only live one life? I suppose it depends on how you look at it. It seems that the consensus is that life is equal to how many years are spent breathing. But what about those actual, individual years? The days? The hours, the minutes? I think those are more important. What is done in those times is what defines your life, not how long you’re breathing.

I mean, you can live to be 102 years old, but if all you did was follow everyone else and not think for yourself or do what you enjoy, did you really live? No. I don’t think so. You just lived like everybody else seemed to be instead of living like you should have. And therefore, I don’t think you really lived. Such a waste of oxygen and time.

Then there’s the consensus that you only live one life. Once again, it all depends on your definition of life. It’s similar to what living is – doing what you want and what you enjoy – except it’s broken down even further. You live the life of a child, then the life of a college student or the life of a soldier or something like that, then the life of whatever you decide to do.

For instance, I lived the life of a child when I was with my birth family. Then I was forced to grow up some and live with strangers. I lived the life of a foster child. And now, I’m living the life of a soon-to-be-adopted girl in Wayne Manor.

It all depends on perspective.

//\\\

THURSDAY, JUNE 21

Breakfast was at nine. Alfred came in and woke me up at 8:30. I spent the next half hour marveling at how there actually seemed to be a bit of a fixed schedule with the Batfamily, something that hadn’t existed for me in years. I dressed in Tim’s clothes after showering and made my way to the kitchen. I was glad that I didn’t get lost. That would have been embarrassing.

I sat at the table cautiously, still unused to the fact that I lived there now. Bruce and Tim both looked sleepy, so I kept quiet. Alfred served a large breakfast, which I ate wholeheartedly. I hadn’t eaten so well for a long time.

I kind of zoned out for most of the meal, partly because I was tired – I was a bit of an insomniac and definitely not a morning person – and partly because I was bored. But when Tim and Bruce started talking about what I assumed was something that had happened last night on their patrol, I started paying attention.

“– who he was in contact with,” Bruce finished saying.

I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to be included and I wanted to know what had happened. “Who who was in contact with?”

Tim and Bruce glanced at each other, as if to wonder if I should be told anything. I pushed down my frustration. I wasn’t naïve to crime. And it wasn’t like I was going to tell anyone. Who would I tell?

“It’s just someone we interrogated last night,” Tim said, trying to shrug it off.

Ha. As if it was that simple. The way they’d been talking suggested it was something serious. And I wanted to know what. I had a right to know that, didn’t I?

“Who?” I asked, keeping my voice calm. It wouldn’t help to lose composure in front of my future adopted family.

“No one,” Bruce stated darkly. Obviously, then, it was someone important. Someone so important that they couldn’t tell me.

Or they just wanted me in the dark.

Frustrated and maybe a little jealous, I put down my fork and looked between Tim and Bruce. “I’m not a child,” I said, half-lightly, half-seriously. “I can handle it. I want to know.”

“It’s none of your concern,” Bruce said.

“But –”

“Master Bruce, perhaps it is best to include Miss Elle in the details about your night job,” Alfred interrupted. I shot him a small smile of gratitude.

“End of discussion,” Bruce repeated firmly. “It doesn’t concern you.”

It was like a slap in the face. Like I’d been invited to a club, only for a last-minute sign to say ‘Bats only.’ I felt like even more of an outsider. I’d always been worried that I wouldn’t belong, but to basically tell me that I wasn’t allowed to know anything about their patrols? That hurt. Surprisingly a lot.

“You look good in my clothes,” Tim teased, trying to lighten the tension.

It didn’t help. And I was still angry. And this was a very obvious change-the-subject-quick quip. I decided to let the conversation move on, despite my hurt and anger. I stuck my tongue out at Tim.

“Shut up,” I whined playfully. I turned to Bruce. I was far from over the hurt, but it was time to pretend that I was. “So how’s the adoption thing going?”

Bruce smiled slightly. “It’s going. Lots of papers to sign. Lots of waiting.”

“And you did this how many times?” I mocked. 

That was a mistake on my part. I was a lot more sarcastic when I was hurt and angry. Not to mention, what I’d said reminded me with a pang that I wasn’t the first. I was the fourth. Suddenly I realized how Jason must have felt when Tim had become Robin. I wasn’t the one being replaced, but it felt like I was just there. Like I wasn’t important.

“Very funny,” Tim said, rolling his eyes. But he was smiling.

Alfred took our dishes to the sink. Once again, I offered to help clean up. Once again, he declined. I followed Tim and Bruce out of the room. Feeling left out and a bit lonely and useless, I matched my pace with Bruce’s.

“So, what can I do?” I asked.

Bruce shot me a confused look. “Do?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I want to do something. Laundry? Vacuuming? Washing windows? If I’m staying here I want to help.” I don’t want to be useless, was what I wanted to say. I’m not going to break, I wanted to say. Let me do something, I wanted to say.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Bruce told me. “You’re a part of this family now.”

“Besides, Alfred’s got you beat on all those points,” Tim pointed out. I shrugged.

“I guess.”

“Before I forget, I have something to give you,” Bruce said to me. 

Tim went off somewhere while I followed Bruce. He went into his room. I hesitated to follow. It was his personal space. His privacy. I didn’t want to intrude. So I stayed in the hallway until Bruce returned with a small box. I gave him a curious glance before opening the box. Inside it was a black cell phone.

“Wow,” I said. “You didn’t have to. Really.”

“It’s a good idea to be able to get in touch in case something happens,” Bruce replied. He had me there. “It has internet connection, too. You’re probably better off asking Tim what else included, though.” I grinned. “I already put my, Dick’s, Tim’s, and the house phone numbers in the contacts.”

“Great,” I said. “Thanks. Thanks a bunch!”

Bruce glanced at his watch, then began fast-walking away. He shouted back something about work. And I was left alone once again.

I wandered the halls, trying to figure out what I could do. I mean, there was always going out into the city, but with all the crime, plus with Bruce Wayne adopting me, it probably wasn’t a good idea. Not to mention, I didn’t like going places alone. It made me feel vulnerable.

So I tried to find Tim. I found him with his own laptop, but he looked so engrossed in whatever he was doing that I felt like I was intruding. So I left. Alfred was doing whatever Alfred did, probably. Which left me. Alone.

I didn’t want to get in the way of anything, so I returned to my bedroom. Even that made me feel lonely and small and alone. The room was huge. White walls. Wood floor. An empty bookcase. A nightstand with a lamp. Plain white sheets on the bed. Plain white pillows. It wasn’t me at all. It was a stranger’s room. It was a guest room.

I just lied in my bed and stared up at the ceiling. I wasn’t in the mood for watching Batman. But I had nothing else to do. I was useless. And boring. And bored. And then my cell phone buzzed. Confused at who would be texting me, I looked at the ID. I smiled. It was Dick. I opened the message.

DICK: How’s B treating you? Like a queen, I hope!

I raised an eyebrow. I wasn’t fragile. Just because I was of the female sex didn’t mean I needed to be – nor wanted to be – treated differently. I smirked.

ELLE: He has yet to kneel at my feet. Oh, well.

DICK: …You can be sarcastic! Good job! Have a cookie! (::)

ELLE: Shouldn’t you be working?

DICK: I’m bored.

ELLE: Of course. So all the crime stops when Dick Grayson is on duty. Seems about right.

DICK: I’ll take that cookie back now.

ELLE: I already ate it. Go buy some donuts or something.

DICK: Somebody’s snarky.

ELLE: And?

DICK: Aren’t you supposed to be shy?

ELLE: Aren’t you supposed to be working?

DICK: But I don’t wanna!

ELLE: Not my problem.

Dick never replied after that. I assumed he had gone back to work or whatever. But I was suddenly all too lonely once more.

I stayed in my room all day except for a quick lunch. Tim had said that he was in the middle of something and ate very little before returning to his laptop. Alfred apologized for him. I talked a little with Alfred, but eventually even he had to go do chores. I found a television and watched random shows until later. 

Bruce returned late. Tim had already gone down to the Batcave after promising Alfred he’d eat a large breakfast tomorrow. I didn’t want to intrude, but I wanted to see the Batcave in action. What was it like when it was in use? I started to follow Bruce to the Batcave, but he stopped me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

“I want to see what you guys do in the Batcave,” I replied.

“You already know,” Bruce said.

“But not in person,” I countered.

“I don’t want you seeing what’s on the computer.”

“I’m not a baby!” I snapped. I blushed, realizing I had just raised my voice at Batman. “I’m sorry.”

Bruce stared at me. “You’re staying up here,” Bruce stated. “And that’s final.”

He left, somehow knowing that I wouldn’t follow. And I didn’t. Because that’s what I always did. I followed orders like a good girl. So I retreated to my room. As soon as I’d closed the door, I started crying. I curled up on my bed and sobbed like the baby I had just claimed not to be.

This had been a bad idea. I was just a burden. And oh so alone in a big, empty room and a big, lonely mansion with almost nothing to call my own.


	5. Not Really Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle feels like a stranger in Wayne Manor. She just wants to fit in.

ELLE

You’re not really living if you don’t do what you love. You’re just breathing. Existing. That’s what I said before, and it’s true. Life isn’t worth it if you play the part of a puppet. It’s much more interesting to live the life of the master. That way, you control your life, not anyone else.

Unfortunately, I’m not feeling that way at Wayne Manor. I’m not really living. A part of me – a large part of me – wonders if it was worth it to say yes to adoption. I’m not living any more here than I was with my foster family. I do my best to stay out of everyone’s way, that’s all. And I’m quickly growing tired of watching the same episodes of Batman over and over. There are only so many out there, after all.

There is nothing in the house or my room to show that I belong here. It’s like I don’t exist. I certainly don’t feel as if I do. I’m invisible. Or maybe I really don’t exist.

I came here so that I could live better, but I’ve found that I’m not really living at all.

//\\\

THURSDAY, JUNE 28

I’d lived at Wayne Manor for a week and nothing had changed. I still did my best to stay out of the others’ way. I still felt like a stranger living in a guest room (and I was starting to wonder if it actually was a guest room). I still had nightmares almost every night.

I’d left the house once after asking Alfred if he could drive me to the library. Luckily, he wasn’t busy and was able to do so. I got myself a library card and a stack of science fiction and dystopian books (like ‘Hunger Games,’ ‘Uglies,’ and ‘1984’). At least I wasn’t as bored. And now I had ten books in my bookcase, even though it was only temporary.

I’d also gone to the grocery store, again by Alfred driving me. I only bought some small necessities – hair brush, shampoo, soap, toothbrush, tampons, underwear, bras, stuff like that – but it was nice to have some items to call my own in my bureau and my connecting bathroom. My closet, though, was filled with some of Tim’s clothes, some of Dick’s clothes, and some of Barbara’s clothes. I wanted to ask about her, but ultimately decided against it. I didn’t need someone else to basically look over me.

Other than briefly going out that day, though, I was still just existing. Bruce worked during the day – whether he went out to an office or whatever or if he stayed in his own private office at home, he was still working – and Tim was busy doing whatever he did. I was left on my own a lot, which scared me.

I was reading one of my library books when my bedroom door burst open and Dick jumped onto my bed. I cried out in surprise and fumbled with my book, hoping to save the page (I didn’t). I looked at Dick and raised an eyebrow.

“Can I help you?” I asked dryly.

Dick pouted. “I came for a visit and that’s all you can say to me?”

“Yes.”

Dick grabbed my book from my hands, ignoring my startled, “Hey!”

“Oh, no, not another bookworm!” Dick teased. “We already have Tim for that!”

I ignored the hurt I felt from that. It was true, after all. Tim was the designated bookworm slash nerd of the Wayne Manor. Then who was I supposed to be?

“Give me back my book,” I said, reaching for it. Dick held it away. I sighed. I didn’t want to play this game with him. “Why are you here?”

“I’m visiting for a few days,” Dick explained, finally handing back the book. I placed it on the nightstand. “So, you like to read?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

“Nothing,” Dick said. “Just getting to know you, sis.”

I shot him a look. “Don’t call me that, please.”

Dick stared at me for a moment before realization dawned on him. “Oh. Did someone in your family call you that?”

I didn’t answer the question. Worried that Dick might try to push the subject, I said the first thing that came into my mind. “When do I get to meet Jason?”

Dick’s expression darkened a bit. “You don’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “I want to meet him. He really doesn’t seem as bad as everyone makes him out to be.” Of course, I was slightly biased. I liked Jason. And, to be honest, I agreed with his method of controlling crime. It made sense to me. Not that I would tell anyone that. I’d probably get locked up in a heartbeat.

Dick frowned. “Real life is different.”

I shrugged. “Still. He’s a part of your family. And if I’m going to become part of your family, then I deserve to meet him, and he deserves to meet me.” Even if he probably wouldn’t care. Or try to kill me. But I really shouldn’t make assumptions.

Dick shook his head. “You don’t want to meet him. Trust me.”

“I wish everyone would stop treating me like I’m a child!” I snapped angrily. “I’m seventeen years old! I know what I do and don’t want!” Dick stared at me in surprise. I bottled down the rest of my anger. Embarrassment and shame became my prominent emotions. I looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Dick said gently. “It’s okay to be mad. We want you to be comfortable enough around us to be able to yell. Or cry or come to us if you need help.”

I shrugged. “’Kay.”

“Elle,” Dick said softly. “Ellie, look at me.” I did so reluctantly, ignoring the new nickname Dick had given me. At least he wasn’t calling me ‘sis.’ “You don’t have to be polite and nice all the time. Be mad, be sad, be grumpy, whatever. Don’t hide from us. We’re family.”

Not yet, I thought.

Dick sighed and stood. “If you ever need anything, just ask.” He leaned over and gave me a hug. I stiffened. I didn’t relax until Dick let go and finally left the room.

//\\\

FRIDAY, JUNE 29

I was restless and bored. Not as bored as before. After all, I had my laptop and books. But I was beginning to feel trapped in the house. I didn’t have any chores, which made me feel useless. I didn’t like not having anything useful to do. And I was starting to feel like a lazy bum.

It was still early when Dick and Tim told Alfred that they were going for a run. I perked up. It was a way to get out of the house. And exercise was important. I knew that I was out of shape and could in no way keep up with Dick and Tim, but I still wanted to tag along.

After some persuading, I followed Dick and Tim as we ran. I felt bad and embarrassed that they had to slow down their pace to stick with me. I’d have let them run ahead, but I didn’t know the way. As soon as I saw Wayne Manor come back into view, though, I let them leave me behind as they raced.

Out of breath, I came to a huffing stop. I was definitely out of shape, but I had refused to stop for any reason. I watched Dick and Tim run at full speed, laughing and taunting each other. I tugged self-consciously on my – er, Tim’s – shirt. I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t strong enough. I was agile enough, and I had a good reaction time, but those didn’t really count. I didn’t belong here, with the Batfamily.

I told myself that I would be better at fitting in. First thing’s first: get in shape. But I didn’t want anyone to know I felt left out, so I didn’t ask for help. I ate less at lunch and dinner than I normally did. I ate one plate of food at each, plus a very small dessert. Usually, I’d eat closer to one and a half plates. Hey, every little bit I didn’t eat counted.

I decided to try some sit-ups and push-ups in my room so that no one would see me making a fool of myself. I only managed to get to twenty sit-ups and three push-ups. That needed to change. I made a goal that by the end of August, I would be able to do one hundred sit-ups and twenty push-ups. That evening, I went for another run. The sun was still up, so I could see where I was going. I knew the path after doing it once, so I went alone, only telling Alfred where I was going. I didn’t want Dick and Tim to come with me. What if they made fun of me?

I refused to stop for any reason. I pushed myself until I did the entire course. By the time I returned to the house, Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all in the Batcave, getting ready to leave for patrol or whatever (they didn’t tell me anything).

“Miss Elle, I am worried about your behavior today,” Alfred told me.

I blushed as I drank a glass of water. I decided to tell him the truth. I trusted him not to tell the others. “I’m out of shape,” I said. “I want to be able to keep up with them when they go running.”

“It would not do anyone any good if you passed out from exhaustion,” Alfred replied sternly.

I shrugged. “I know my limits. I just want to … be up to par with them, I guess.” I glanced in the general direction of the Batcave. “Don’t tell them that, though.”

“Tell who what?” Alfred replied, giving me the slightest of grins before walking away.

I wanted to ask him if I could do something in the house, but knew he’d say no. I headed back up to my room. I still felt out of place and like a burden. What was the point of me even staying there? This had been a mistake. Maybe I should just leave and save everyone the trouble.


	6. Struggling With Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle runs away, only to get herself into some serious trouble. Luckily, the Red Hood doesn't like guys ganging up on girls. Or, he was just in the neighborhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, violence (not too graphic in most parts), attempted rape (doesn't go very far)

ELLE

Sometimes life challenges you, and sometimes it just struggles against you. Or you struggle against life. Either way, you can’t meet the challenges, and life won’t give you another way around it. It’s like a tug-of-war. You’re drowning or sinking or falling and so life throws you a rope. But as soon as you grab the rope, life won’t let go. So you both tug on it, trying to get the advantage, but in the end, it’s a stalemate.

That’s when you have to think about where you are in life. Is this struggle, this challenge that you can’t beat, worth it? Should you let go of the rope and try to get out of the problem yourself? It’s a hard decision to make, and a lot of people don’t know what to do.

Some people hang on to the rope as if it’s their only lifeline, as if there is absolutely no other way to go. There’s a ledge right next to them or a branch to pull themselves up with, but they’re too afraid to let go of whatever life has given them, because what if it’s the wrong choice? What if they miss the ledge or the branch breaks?

Others let go before looking for another way out. Or they let go of the rope thinking that there is no other way. They drown or fall to their deaths because they believe they’ve lost the only chance they’ve got to live, when in reality, they only stopped looking. They let go of the obvious struggle but never tried to find another way around it.

Very few make the third decision, which is to try to find a way around the struggle. But some do. They pull themselves up with the branch or the ledge, tip their hats to life, and move on until another challenge faces them.

Right now, I honestly don’t know where I’m at, or what I’m going to do. I thought that I was part of the minority of the third group. The struggle was that my family was dead and I was stuck in foster care. The branch was the opportunity to get adopted by Bruce Wayne. I thought that I had beat life at its own game. 

But now I wonder if I just leapt from one rope to another. Although I I’m not in foster care anymore, I’m not gaining any ground with the Batfamily. I am still a loner and alone. I am still having trouble figuring out what I am supposed to be doing.

So, the question is, should I continue to hang from the rope, or should I search for another way out?

//\\\

SATURDAY, JUNE 30

I woke up from a nightmare at four in the morning. I’d only slept for three hours, but there was no way I’d be able to get back to sleep. I forced myself out of bed and quietly started doing sit-ups and push-ups. 

I did ten sit-ups every other minute and five push-ups every other minute for an hour. Doing the math, I realized afterwards that I had done 300 sit-ups and 150 push-ups, give or take a few because I collapsed a few times from the pain.

Wanting to keep track of my progress, I created a Word document on my laptop and recorded what I’d done yesterday and today. Then I got dressed and headed downstairs. Alfred was already up, so I let him know where I was going. He handed me a water bottle before I left. Once again, I didn’t let myself stop running for anything. And, once again, I nearly collapsed by the time I’d returned to the manor.

I snuck back upstairs and took a shower after recording how long it had taken me to run the course (nearly 40 minutes). I watched a couple of episodes of Batman: The Animated Series, read a couple chapters of my book, then headed downstairs for breakfast.

I watched Bruce, Dick, and Tim interact with each other. I wished that I could be included in their family dynamic, but it just wasn’t possible. I was just a burden. Useless. Dick tried to get me to talk, but I only gave one-word answers. And then Dick was dragged into another conversation with Tim and Bruce. When their conversation started getting more serious and their voices started getting quieter, I realized that it was time to leave. Obviously, I wasn’t really a part of their family if I couldn’t know anything about their night job.

I picked up my plate and brought it over to the sink. Alfred stopped me from helping and basically kicked me out of the kitchen. I returned to my room, wishing that I had something to do. I was just bumming off of them, really. I wanted to help. But they wouldn’t let me.

I thought long and hard about it all day. In the end, I dressed in the only clothes that were truly mine, scribbled a note on a scrap piece of paper that said I was leaving, and snuck out when the Batfamily was out. I left everything behind, including my laptop and cell phone. Those weren’t truly mine, anyway. They were just expensive gifts given to me by a man with too much money on his hands.

It was one in the morning in Gotham. Only ten minutes into walking around the city did I realize that I really hadn’t thought things through enough. Where was I supposed to go? How was I going to survive? I had no money and I was far from a street kid.

I didn’t pay attention to where I was going. I just wanted to get as far away from Wayne Manor as I could. Although, really, I should have known better than to try to get away from the Bats. They patrolled all over the city, right? So they could probably find me if they wanted to. And it wasn’t like I was all that great at hiding. The question was, would they want to find me?

I was so into my thoughts that I never noticed anyone come up behind me. I did notice, though, when I was pushed into an alley. I fell to the ground. I wanted to cry or scream, but I was already enough of a coward. I didn’t want to add anything else to the list of reasons I shouldn’t be with the Batfamily.

I looked up. Four men surrounded me. That’s all I really noticed because one of them had a gun pointed at me. And I didn’t feel like observing my attackers when there was a bullet waiting to be shot at my head.

“W-what do you want?” I tried to sound braver than I was. In reality, my heart was beating so fast I was surprised it didn’t explode out of my chest.

“We want your money,” one of the guys said.

“I don’t have any,” I told them. I kept my eye on the gun. If it wasn’t for that, I’d make a run for it.

“Turn out your pockets,” another guy ordered. I carefully rose to my feet and did what they asked. Empty, as I’d said.

“Well, a little girl lost on her own and with no money,” the guy with the gun said. The other guys chuckled. I suddenly didn’t like where this was going. “What do you think we can do with you?”

“I can think of a few things,” the first guy said. The fourth guy reached for my shirt. I tugged away from him. I lifted my arm up to try to punch his nose, but he caught my wrist. He used his body to shove me against the side of the alley. He grabbed my other wrist and held them both above my head.

“Let go!” I yelled, scared. This had been such a bad idea.

The guy with the gun traced the side of my body with the weapon. My entire body shook but I didn’t say anything else, lest he decided to shoot me. I started crying.

“Please,” I begged. “Please, don’t.”

I tried to maneuver out of the man’s grip or to kick him in the crotch, but the gun was suddenly on my cheek. I closed my eyes and let out a sob.

“Another word, bitch,” the man growled.

“Now is that any way to treat a lady?” I heard. I opened my eyes. There, with two guns in his hands, was Jason. The Red Hood. I let out another sob, this one of relief.

“Shit! It’s the Red Hood!” the first man who had spoken shouted. He tried to run off. Jason pulled the trigger. The man fell to the ground, bleeding from a wound in his head.

“Anyone else?” Jason asked, almost lazily, but I could hear a trace of anger in his voice.

I quirked a small smile. “You’d better do as he says,” I said, suddenly a bit more confident now that I knew Jason was there. No way would he let these guys go. I hoped.

The man with the gun aimed his gun shakily at the Red Hood, who knocked the gun aside and knocked him out with a kick. The second and fourth guys tried to tackle Jason. The second was shot twice in the stomach. The fourth was hit in the head and kicked in the crotch. He went down with a pained cry.

Jason pulled him up roughly by his collar. “You like forcing your dick into people’s asses?” he asked. He punched him into the wall and kicked in the side. “Let me take care of that for you.” Jason shot the man’s crotch. The man screamed in pain. It was actually morbidly fascinating to see my almost-rapist crying like a baby.

That’s when I noticed the man with the gun – who had regained consciousness – creeping up behind the Red Hood. “Jason!” I warned. Instead of helping Jason, I only caused him to look at me with what I assumed a shocked expression. He lowered his guns a fraction, giving the man the opportunity to tackle Jason from behind.

Jason and the man punched and kicked each other. I couldn’t tell exactly what was happening – it was all moving so fast. Plus, I was probably in shock. All I knew was that Jason had somehow lost his guns and he and the man were fighting on the ground. Without thinking, I grabbed one of the fallen guns and pointed it at the pair.

“Stop it!” I yelled. They didn’t listen. My hands shook. “I said, stop!”

They both noticed that I had the gun. They just stared at me.

“Sweetheart, I can handle myself,” Red Hood said rudely.

I pointed my gun at my attacker. “Get away from him.” I ignored the slight wavering in my voice. “Now!” The man did so, raising his hands up, a small smirk on his face. I tried to steady my hand. My heart was racing, but in a good way. I liked this. I liked that I finally had control.

“Kid –” Jason said cautiously.

“Give one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you,” I told the attacker. He smirked. “One damn good reason.” I liked this. Maybe a bit too much. But it was better than being a coward. Than being shy and sweet and nice all the time.

“You ain’t gonna shoot me,” the man chuckled. 

My grip on the gun tightened. He was so sure I wouldn’t. I wanted to prove him wrong. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it, too. That I could do something that I knew Bruce and Dick and Tim would never be able to do. That I could do one thing better than them. That I wasn’t useless and worthless, because if I did this, I might save some other defenseless person from him.

“But I will,” Jason said. That’s when I realized that he’d taken another one of the fallen guns and was now standing behind the man. Within seconds, the man was dead.

I was still angry. I still liked the feeling of control. I still wanted someone to scare, because then I wouldn’t be the one scared. I turned and pointed the gun at the sobbing man on the ground.

Jason shot the man dead before I could. But I continued to hold the gun up. Jason, the Red Hood, walked over to me.

“What the hell did you think you were doing, kid?” Jason demanded. I slowly lowered the gun and wiped my tears with my other hand.

“I just wanted to help,” I said meekly, my anger and need for control suddenly vanishing. Besides, I knew better than to piss off the Red Hood.

“Well, stop trying and go home.” Jason grabbed the gun from me, put the safety on, and put it into his holster. He turned and started walking away. A few steps away, he turned back. “On second thought, you can tell me how the hell you know my name.”

I was going to tell him I was a fan, but then decided with the probably-just-as-bad option. “Bruce is going to adopt me.” Or he was until I ran off. Guilt and regret flooded my being. He’d probably give me away now. Or maybe not even try to find me.

Jason sighed in frustration. “You’re that kid. Bella or whatever. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

I pursed my lips. “Elle.”

“Elle. Whatever.” Jason crossed his arms. “Look, kid, you’re in way over your head. Go back to Bruce or whatever.”

He started to leave again. I ran to catch up with him. Jason halted.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Coming with you,” I said. “I ran away. Bad idea, I know, but can I stay at your place? Just for tonight?” I blushed at how forward I was being. I fiddled with my hands nervously. I hoped I didn’t anger him.

“I’m no one’s babysitter,” Jason said.

“Never said I needed one,” I countered, talking without thinking again. Jason started walking again. I followed. This time, he didn’t say anything.

Jason led me to his dingy apartment. As he took off his helmet, I observed the mess. I ignored the smell. It was better than the streets.

“So, if Bruce is adopting you, why’d you run off?” Jason asked suddenly. I guess he was more curious than he’d let on. Or maybe he was a bit jealous. Angry. Whatever. I knew that he didn’t like how Tim replaced him as Robin, so what if he hated me because I was being adopted?

Realizing I hadn’t answered yet, I shrugged. “No reason.” He didn’t need to know. It wasn’t any of his business. Besides, I didn’t want this conversation to get back to Bruce or something. Hey, anything could happen.

Jason raised an eyebrow in disbelief. He leaned against the wall. “There’s gotta be a reason, kid.”

“Why do you care?” I half-snapped, half tried to shrug it off lightly. I wasn’t going to talk about it, and that was that.

Jason was silent for a few minutes. I stood awkwardly, wanted to sit on the couch, but I didn’t want to do anything wrong. I didn’t like being in other people’s houses. Different people have different rules. I didn’t want to mess up. Especially not with ‘shoot-first-ask-questions-never’ Jason.

“Why is he adopting you, anyway?” Jason asked. I shrugged. “Something happen to the Replacement that he needs a new Robin?”

I rolled my eyes. “Tim’s fine and I doubt I’ll ever be Robin.” I said the last bit a little too bitterly to be normal, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t that I wanted to be Robin. It was more the fact that I would never be a part of the Batfamily. Not for real. They wouldn’t let me become part of their night job.

“So why is he adopting you?”

“Because Bruce likes orphans.” I said without thinking. I stiffened and glanced over at Jason. Instead of being angry, though, he smirked.

“Don’t I know it.” 

I grinned. Jason really wasn’t that bad, if you ignored the killing and the temper. Surprisingly, I could handle the killing. And Jason didn’t seem to mind my being there. Unless he was getting better at hiding his feelings.

As the silence that followed dragged on, I tugged at my shirt awkwardly. Doing so pulled down the top of my shirt a little bit so that my Batman necklace could be seen. Jason’s eyes shot to it.

“You’re a fan?” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “Great.”

I bit my lip. “Sorry.”

Jason crossed his arms. “Since when does Bruce adopt fans?”

“No clue,” I shrugged apologetically.

Jason frowned as he stared at me. “Wait. If you’re a fan, then you know all about me.”

I shrugged again. “I guess.” What did he want me to say?

“Then don’t say anything about my methods of controlling crime,” Jason scowled.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I admitted. I shuffled my feet a bit. “I kind of agree with it, to be honest.”

Surprise flickered across Jason’s face for a split second before he hid it. “Well that’s something I thought I’d never hear a Bat say.”

“I’m not a Bat,” I said automatically, looking away.

Jason started moving to what I assumed was his room.

“Couch is yours. Leave whenever. Don’t tell Bruce where I live.” He disappeared into his room and closed the door, leaving me alone.

“Thanks,” I muttered to myself. I settled myself on the couch and tried to get some sleep.

//\\\

SUNDAY, JULY 1

I woke up crying in the late morning. I quickly wiped my tears away and tried to calm down. I didn’t want Jason to see me and think I was weak. It turned out that I didn’t have to worry about Jason. I found a note on my stomach:

Eat whatever you find, just don’t eat it all.  
Leave whenever you want (preferably before I get back).  
-J

I found myself smiling at the note. That was just so … Jason. I went over to the fridge and ate a piece of leftover pepperoni pizza. I didn’t know how long it had been in there, but I didn’t care. And I tried not to think about it. I drank a glass of water, cleaned out the glass. I liked having something to do.

It was 10:30 and I didn’t want to go back to the manor yet, which I knew I really didn’t have a choice about. I couldn’t survive on my own, and honestly, I didn’t think I wanted to. But at the manor, I had nothing to do. Not to mention, I would be in a lot of trouble. I looked around Jason’s apartment. I’d clean up some of it, at least enough to waste another hour.

I cleaned up the trash and did the pile of dishes in the sink. I stayed out of Jason’s bedroom and the bathroom. It wasn’t perfect, but it was certainly a little bit cleaner than it had been. And then I was faced with another problem: how to get back to the manor.

I would walk back but I didn’t know my way through Gotham, not to mention, it was dangerous. I could call the manor and have Alfred pick me up, but I hadn’t bothered to memorize any of the phone numbers on my contact list. And I doubt Jason owned a phone book. I had no money to spend on a bus or taxi. I sat on the couch. I’d have to wait for Jason to get back.

He finally returned at 1:45. I glanced around the cleaner apartment before raising an eyebrow at me.

“Didn’t I say you should be gone before I got back?”

I blushed and looked down. “I, uh, don’t know how to get back to the manor,” I said quietly. “And I don’t have any money.”

Jason sighed. “Come on, kid.”

I followed him outside, where he got onto a motorcycle. I stood beside it, unsure. I’d always wanted to ride a motorcycle – more like drive one – but Jason already seemed mad.

“Well? You just gonna stand there?” Jason snapped. He handed me his only helmet. I put it on and climbed up behind him.

I held onto Jason for dear life, but I was smiling. It was fun and Jason didn’t care about traffic rules. We sped through Gotham’s streets until he came to a stop. I recognized the library and figured that I could get back to the manor on my own. After all, not only had Alfred driven me there, but Tim had also walked with me to the library my first day.

“This good enough?” Jason asked. “Because there is no way I’m going all the way to the manor.”

I nodded and got off the motorcycle. I handed him his helmet back. “Thank you so much,” I told him.

Jason put on the helmet and nodded once. “Don’t mention it, kid.” He sped away.

As I walked closer and closer to Wayne Manor, my good mood and confidence wavered. What would everyone say? What if they didn’t care? What if they were furious? But I knew that I had to go back. Taking a deep breath, I entered the manor.

Alfred was the first person to see me. “Oh, my word,” he said exclaimed softly. He looked at me sternly. “Where have you been, Miss Elle? You had everyone worried.”

I looked down at my feet. “Sorry.” I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t.

“I’ll go inform the others,” Alfred said. He walked off.

A few minutes later, Dick appeared out of nowhere and crushed me in a tight hug. When he pulled away, he grabbed my shoulders and glared at me. I winced.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dick demanded. I tried to look away but Dick wouldn’t let me. “No. We get back and you’re gone to who-knows-where and –”

“You could’ve been killed,” Bruce said. I jumped, not noticing his presence until that moment. I saw that Tim was there, as well as Alfred. None of them looked too pleased.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered pathetically.

“You’re sorry?” Dick exclaimed, finally let go of my shoulders. “You ran off for no reason, scaring us all to death, and all you can say is sorry?” I must have really worried them if Dick was this angry. And I thought I had to be cautious with Jason.

“Dick, that’s enough,” Bruce interrupted. Dick brushed a hand through his hair and backed away a few steps, probably to try to calm down.

“We couldn’t find you,” Tim told me. “We thought someone had kidnapped you.”

I looked at him strangely. “Why would someone kidnap me?”

“Everyone knows Bruce is adopting you,” Tim answered. He spoke as if I was stupid and that I should know this already. “Crazy people will do crazy things for money.”

“Well, I’m back now, so it’s fine,” I tried to leave the room. Bruce stood in my way. “Can I leave?”

“Not until you tell us why you ran away,” Bruce said. He was struggling between being a concerned parent and being an angry Batman. I could tell. He stood awkwardly in front of me, staring at me, waiting for my answer.

“Does it matter?” I asked, half-laughing, hoping to shake off the question. No one had to know. And I wouldn’t cry. Just another minute and I’ll be in my room, and then I can lock the door and I can cry. But not now when everyone could see me.

“Of course it matters!” Tim exclaimed, surprised. I didn’t say anything.

“Tell us why you felt like you had to run away,” Dick said, much more gently than he had spoken to me before. He had calmed down considerably. “Is it something we did? Something we said? Tell us so we can make it better.”

To my horror, I let out a sob. I curled my arms around myself as I felt tears fall down my face. Dick reached out to give me a hug, but I twisted away from him, ignoring the hurt on his face.

“Elle?” Bruce prompted.

“I feel like a burden,” I blurted. And once it started, I couldn’t stop it. “I don’t belong here. You guys are amazing and I’m just … not. I’m useless and stupid and I couldn’t keep up with you when you were on your run and-and I just don’t belong here.”

“Oh, Ellie,” Dick pulled me into a hug. This time, I collapsed into it, sobbing pitifully into his shirt. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I don’t belong here,” I repeated, my voice muffled. “I don’t belong anywhere. I wish I’d died with my family in that stupid fire.”

“You don’t mean that,” Tim said, although it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. I pulled away a bit from Dick so that I could face the rest of the Batfamily, including Alfred, who just nodded encouragement to me to speak.

“I miss my mom,” I sobbed. “I miss her peanut butter chocolate chip cookies and how she used to sing me to sleep when I was little. I even miss her and my dad arguing. I miss my dad playing hide and seek with me when my brother wouldn’t. And I miss my brother helping me fall asleep when I had a nightmare. I miss everything. I even miss how things were right before they died, when no one really noticed me and I was alone but they still loved me and-and I just want them back.”

No one said anything. Dick held me close to him, letting me cry. Alfred left the room. Tim awkwardly rubbed my back. Bruce stood there, taking in the scene. I realized that this was the first time I’d ever really cried about my family’s death. I’d cried to myself for a week after it had happened, but I’d never talked to anyone about it. I’d never really admitted to myself, even, that I felt that way. It felt good to finally let it out.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I slowly began to calm down. “I didn’t mean to –”

“Crying is a good thing,” Dick told me.

I shrugged, pulling out of the hug and wiping at my eyes. “Still.”

“Why do you feel like a burden?” Tim asked, concerned.

“I don’t do anything,” I said quietly. “And I don’t belong here.”

“But you can belong here,” Tim countered softly.

“We just want to make you comfortable,” Bruce spoke up. “We – I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“You guys want me to be your family but I feel like a stranger!” I snapped.

“Then why didn’t you just talk to us?” Tim asked.

“Because I’m shy, and insecure, and I feel like I’m the outsider,” I admitted, pushing back more tears. “I’m always alone –”

“Then come find me,” Tim said.

“– you don’t know anything about me –”

“So tell us,” Bruce said.

“– I don’t know anything about what you guys do at your night job –”

“To protect you,” Bruce said.

“– I want to do something so I’m not useless –”

“You’re not useless,” Dick said firmly.

“– and I just don’t belong here!”

“I understand that this is hard on you,” Bruce said, “but it’s hard for us, too. We don’t know what you need or what you like. We don’t know what you are and aren’t comfortable with.”

“What do you want us to do?” Dick asked me.

I shrugged. “I dunno. I really don’t. I’m just tired of always being left out.”

“We’ll change that,” Dick promised.

“But for now, you’re grounded,” Bruce said sternly. I stared at him, confused by the sudden change in subject.

“Huh?”

“You ran off and worried us all,” Bruce told me. “You’re grounded for a week. That means no electronics allowed and you can’t leave the manor.”

I blinked. “Okay.” I was strangely okay with being grounded. It meant that he cared. It meant that he still wanted me around.

“Go get your phone and laptop and bring them to Alfred,” Bruce ordered.

“I promise I won’t use them,” I said honestly. “Do I have to?”

“Now,” Bruce said – more like growled. I winced and hurried to do so.

As I handed them over to Alfred to put who-knows-where, I told him, “Please don’t let anyone hack my laptop.”

“I didn’t plan on it,” Alfred replied. I turned to go up to my room so I could read. I was drained from all the crying. “Miss Elle?” Alfred called to me. I looked at him, confused. “Tomorrow, I want you up bright and early to help me make breakfast.”

I smiled. “Sure thing, Alfred,” I said. “Just wake me up when you want me.”

“I intended to do so, anyway,” Alfred said. I swore I saw a small smile on his face as he took my electronics away, but I couldn’t be sure.

I headed to my room and sat at the window, staring out at the property of Wayne Manor. It was still big, and I was still small and alone, but I didn’t feel as lonely after talking to Bruce, Dick, and Tim. Maybe things would start to get better.


	7. Live to the Fullest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bats won't let Elle learn how to fight, so she goes to Jason, even though she's grounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: language

ELLE

Going back to what I said before, about the difference between living and simply existing, I have to say that I also support living to the fullest. It just doesn’t do if you want to make a change, but not too big of a change. Maybe you look a little too long before you leap until you psych yourself out or don’t leap as far as you’d intended. But that means you didn’t make it to your goal.

So it’s best to just jump right into things. Maybe look for a split second, just to make sure you’re not going to jump off a cliff, but then just do it. Don’t think about the consequences because then you’ll forget why you ever wanted to jump in the first place.

In real life, people do this all the time, and they end up hating themselves for it. For instance, you might decide to become an English professor, so you declare your major. But then you start thinking about it too much – all the work that you have to do, maybe, or perhaps you think you’re not good enough, or you simply change your mind but it’s too late – and you never make it past a bachelor’s degree. 

You lose your motivation and wonder why you ever wanted to be an English professor, and suddenly you’re stuck with a major that really doesn’t do any good unless it’s to become a teacher. So you have to settle for something else entirely – a job at a grocery store, or maybe you somehow become a guidance counselor, but you don’t want to do either of those things, and you never get around to making that extra hop towards being an English professor.

That’s what a lot of life is – settling for something that you’re not happy with. You need to take those chances that you’re scared of, regardless of where you end up. Don’t overthink it or you’ll never make it. But don’t settle. It makes life boring and you’ll quickly grow tired of whatever it was you settled for. Why bother existing if you’re just doing your second-choice or third-choice or last-choice job, or life, or school, or hobby, or whatever else there is out there?

Life at Wayne Manor was a leap for me. I used to think that just meeting Bruce and the others would be enough. Instead, I managed to get farther, and I believed it was enough. But the longer I stay, the more I realize that there had always been the desire to do something more, to be better, to live life in a more exciting way than just plain living.

I told Jason that I’m not a Bat, and I think that was when I realized what I was missing. I didn’t take the largest leap I could. I doubt Bruce would let me help with fighting crime, but I think that’s what the remaining hop is. Because I’ve found that I’m settling for just living in the manor, but what am I doing? Why bother?

I need to change my attitude and follow my own advice – live to the fullest.

//\\\

MONDAY, JULY 2

I had to resist the urge to yell at Alfred when he woke me up at seven in the morning. Luckily, I didn’t have a nightmare last night, so he didn’t see me crying or whatever it was that I did in my sleep. I glared at Alfred through sleepy eyes since I’d only gotten a few hours of sleep.

“We start making breakfast at eight thirty, miss Elle,” Alfred told me.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Why did he have to wake me up this early, then? Alfred left the room. Glancing at the time on my phone, I decided to do some more push-ups and sit-ups. After doing so for forty-five minutes and recording how many I’d done, I showered and changed. It was around 8:15 when I went down to the kitchen.

“So, what are we making?” I asked Alfred, who was getting ingredients out of the fridge.

“Fried eggs on toast, buttermilk and blueberry pancakes, and fried ham,” Alfred listed. My mouth watered just hearing it.

I walked up to the sideboard. “What do you want me to do?”

“Do you know how to make pancakes?”

“If there’s a recipe book, then sure.”

Alfred got out a recipe book and turned to the page he wanted. I got to work making the pancakes from scratch while Alfred did the rest. I stacked pancake upon pancake on a serving dish and went to set the table. Dick was already up and lounging in a chair.

He looked at me, surprised. “You’re cooking?”

I blushed. “Yeah.”

I set the table while Dick watched, teasing me a bit. I ignored him and went to help Alfred bring out the food. Tim and Bruce both entered the room as we did so.

Tim looked at me, then at the food. “I hope this doesn’t poison me,” he deadpanned.

I shot him a small glare when he wasn’t looking. “Just eat it,” I sighed.

Everyone complimented me on the pancakes. I was so happy that I hadn’t messed up. And I finally did something. I wasn’t useless, at least that morning. That was better than every other day I’d stayed at the manor. And Alfred even let me help wash the dishes. Most people would think I was insane for wanting to do chores, but it made me feel better.

By the time the dishes were put away and the table and kitchen were cleaned up, it was nearing eleven. Alfred went to do a load of laundry, so I was stuck doing nothing. I read more from the library books, but I was quickly running out of them. How was I supposed to get through a week without electronics?

Feeling brave and more comfortable, I wandered the building. Maybe I could do as they’d suggested and actually try talking to them? After all, I had to admit that I was a big reason I felt like an outsider. I didn’t even try to get to know them. How must that look? And they claimed that they wanted to know me, too, so maybe we could play a game or something. Like Twenty Questions. Or even just a board game. At least with a board game or a card game, I’d get an idea of what sorts of things they liked. Did they even have those kinds of things here?

However, after lapping the building twice – and getting lost once due to the fact that I never really went anywhere besides my room, the kitchen, and the living room – I couldn’t find anyone. I knew Alfred was doing stuff, but where were the others? And then it hit me. I wanted to slap myself. They were the Batfamily. Where did I think they were?

I hesitated at the entrance to the Batcave. Tim had shown me down there once, but Bruce didn’t seem to want me there. What if they didn’t want someone who wasn’t part of the Batfamily – which, to me, included Alfred – to see? I almost turned away to go lie on the couch, but I took a deep breath and resisted the urge. If I wanted to fit in, then I had to be the one to make an effort, seeing as they were only doing what they thought I was comfortable with. With that thought, I finally headed down to the Batcave.

Dick was over on the bars, doing moves that I could never hope to achieve. I watched him with fascination and interest. He really was as agile and fluid as the cartoons had perceived him to be. I turned to Tim and Bruce, who were sparring. I couldn’t keep up with the moves, but it looked fun. And hard. But fun.

No one had noticed my entrance. Or, more likely, they had noticed – they were Bats, after all – but had elected to ignore my presence. Which I was more than okay with, seeing as their training was entertaining. I sat on the last stair and watched Bruce and Tim. 

I was reminded of when I was a little girl and I wanted to learn karate or kung fu or some other form of martial arts, but there weren’t any places nearby who could teach me. And suddenly, those feelings I’d had about martial arts – about learning to fight and having fun and just plain defending myself – came back at me, full force. I hadn’t thought about learning martial arts in years, but watching Bruce and Tim brought it all back.

When Tim and Bruce ended their sparring match, I took a deep breath and spoke up. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

“What, spar?” Tim asked, surprised. I forced down my anger and frustration. I might be shy and insecure, but I still wanted to learn. Or maybe he was just surprised that I’d spoken. Maybe I was taking things out of hand. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Bruce said. I looked at Tim, who shrugged.

“Please? Just really basic-basic stuff?” I pleaded. By ‘really basic-basic’ I meant a simple punch. Or a kick. Or, just a bit further but still basic, how to get out of a chokehold. Or something. I didn’t expect to be good, or even to get it down the first day, but I wanted to try. I’d be able to mark it off my non-existent bucket list, at least.

“It’s hard work,” Tim told me. I shrugged.

“So? I still want to try.”

“No,” Bruce said. “You’ll get hurt.”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. “I’m not fragile. I can handle it. Please?”

“I’m with them on this one,” Dick said, flipping onto the ground. “Sorry, Ellie.”

“No, it’s fine,” I said, perhaps a bit too harshly. I wondered when I’d gotten a short temper. Or maybe I was just getting worse at hiding my anger. I stood up abruptly and headed back upstairs.

Lunch was awkward. I refused to speak to anyone, not even Alfred. I wasn’t a child. At the same time, I wasn’t expecting to be perfect or amazing. I just wanted to try. Was that so much to ask? I understood their point of view; that I would get hurt and they didn’t want that. But I just wanted to learn. I wanted to fit in a bit more, too, but that was just a little added bonus. 

Maybe a part of me also wanted to earn their respect, but neither they nor I had allowed that to happen. I’d hidden up in my room a lot, run off, and then I suddenly want to get to know them? I could’ve planned that better. I hated how I’d started off living at the manor. I was trying to change it, but how could I?

Suddenly not hungry, I excused myself from the table and went to my room. I knew I was being unfair, but every little thing seemed to set me off now. Why couldn’t they just teach me how to block a punch, even? I was sure that even Jason would do that.

Jason. That was it. Maybe he would teach me some stuff. I mean, he wouldn’t care if I got hurt, and he didn’t care at all about what Bruce thought. Perfect. I was still grounded, but I figured that it was about time that I became a bit of a rebel. I found the paper I’d written my runaway note on and flipped it over to the blank side. I simply wrote ‘went for a walk.’ 

Of course, I knew that being grounded meant that I couldn’t leave the building. But at least they wouldn’t panic if they noticed my absence. I opened my window and looked down. I was on the top floor, but there was an overhang below me, a little to the left. I bit my lip and took a deep breath to calm myself down. I was scared of falling, but I wanted to do this. I climbed out of the window and shimmied over to where the overhang was. I stood on the overhang for a moment before climbing down a nearby tree.

Without a second thought, I ran off. I didn’t know my way around Gotham, but I knew the main street that Tim had shown me, and I knew where Jason lived. I walked quickly through the street, trying to remember where he’d driven me on his motorcycle so I could retrace my steps. It took a couple of hours – I got lost a lot, plus Jason was on the other side of the city – but I finally made it to Jason’s apartment.

I knew it wasn’t a good idea to not only sneak out, but also to ask Jason to teach me some sparring moves. But I couldn’t bring myself to care. I liked how I was slowly but surely becoming more sure of myself. I knocked on the door, hoping that Jason was there. And that he wouldn’t kill me.

To be honest, I expected the gun that was pointed at my face. It still scared me, though. When Jason saw it was me, he threw the gun onto the couch and rolled his eyes at me. I crossed my arms, waiting for him to move aside so I could enter.

“What are you doing here, kid?” Jason asked, annoyed.

“I want you to teach me how to fight,” I said before I lost the nerve.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “It isn’t a game. Go home.” He tried to close the door, but I managed to slip inside.

“No,” I said defiantly. I knew what I wanted. And I wasn’t going to let another person put me down.

“What, Bruce not good enough for ya?” Jason collapsed onto the couch.

“He won’t teach me.”

Jason stared at me. “And you thought I would?” he mocked. He sat up. “Listen, kid, do yourself a favor and leave the fighting to the big boys, yeah?”

I glared. “What about Barbara?” I challenged. “She can fight. And it’s not like I want to go crime fighting. I just want to learn. For fun.”

Jason let out a bark of laughter. “Fun? Fun? You want to learn to fight because it’s fun?”

I blushed. I suddenly felt very small.

“Well, listen here, kid,” Jason said darkly, standing up. I took an involuntary step back. “Fighting is more than just ‘fun.’ It’s a lifestyle. And you don’t want that lifestyle. Trust me.”

I didn’t know if he was talking about him growing up on the streets or how Bruce, Dick, and Tim all fight crime. It didn’t really matter. I still wanted to learn.

“Just teach me,” I begged.

Jason snorted. “It’s just a phase. You’ll get over it.”

I glared. “I’ve wanted to learn for years. I never had the opportunity, and now that I do, no one will fucking teach me!” I yelled. 

Jason stared at me for a moment. My anger faded into fear, once more. Why did I shout at him? He could kill me before I even realized he was thinking of doing so. I guess my frustration had gotten the better of me. Again. I really needed to work on that.

Jason took a step towards me. “You want to learn how to fight?” he asked. I didn’t say anything. He took another step forward. I took one back. “Well, do you?”

I nodded shakily. “Y-yeah.” Then, more confidently, “Yes.”

The next thing I knew, Jason was throwing a punch at me. I raised my arm and ducked my head instinctively, involuntarily closing my eyes and flinching away. When I realized I hadn’t been hit, I opened my eyes. Jason’s fist had stopped an inch away from me.

“You want to block with your left,” Jason told me, nodding towards my arm. “You used your dominant arm to block, which leaves you vulnerable on both sides.” 

Realizing what he was doing, I stayed in position. “Don’t duck your head. A punch from underneath and in that position would probably break your nose.” 

Jason demonstrated the underhand punch slowly, without actually touching me. 

“Don’t close your eyes; rule number one of anything.” 

I blushed. 

“You twisted your body to get away, but you put your right side – your dominant side – forward. You want to keep your body firm.” 

I stiffened as Jason started moving my limbs and upper body until he was satisfied with my defensive posture. 

“Spread your legs a bit to give you move balance.” I did so. “Bend your knees. You don’t want to be locked in place.” I followed his instructions silently. 

“Now, when you see a punch coming towards you, move your left arm – your defensive arm – in front of you like this.” He showed me. “You want to twist your upper body slightly, just to keep your dominant side less vulnerable to attack.” 

I practiced it a few times, with Jason correcting my moves. Finally, he was satisfied. “Not the best, but it’ll do for the first day.”

“Wait. That’s it?” I asked, disappointed. I thought that Jason would help me a bit more than just a simple block.

Jason raised an eyebrow. I bit my lip. Okay, then. That was it.

“Do you know where the park is?” Jason asked. I shook my head. “Then come back here tomorrow, anytime during the day. We’ll head over to the park and work on more defensive moves.”

I bit my lip. “I’m grounded, though.”

Jason snorted. “Like that stopped you from coming here today.”

I shrugged. I turned to leave. Then I realized. “Wait. How’d you know I was right-handed?”

“The way you held the gun a couple days ago,” Jason said. I wanted to slap myself. Duh. “And if it wasn’t for that, I would have been able to tell with how you instinctively blocked the punch. People without training use their dominant arm to block.”

I nodded, taking in what he said. I grinned. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, kid,” I heard Jason say as I left.

It took me a little less time to get back to Wayne Manor since I now knew the way. It still took me a while, even though I fast-walked the entire way due to the fear that I’d get mugged or something. It was getting dark and I didn’t trust anyone. I ran up the street/driveway of Wayne Manor, hoping that no one had noticed I’d been gone.

They had.

Tim was waiting outside the manor. And he saw me. So I couldn’t sneak in through my window. I walked up to him.

“You’re in trouble,” he informed me.

I shrugged, knowing that already.

When Bruce saw me, he glared at me. I looked down at the ground fearfully. 

“What, exactly, does ‘grounded’ mean?” Bruce growled. I flinched. “You left the manor after I specifically told you not to.” I didn’t answer. Bruce sighed, frustrated. “Go to your room. You are not to leave until breakfast tomorrow. No dinner.”

I walked off, not regretting my actions, but fearing the Batman, even out of costume.

“And don’t think about sneaking out again; Dick is watching your window,” Bruce called.

Great. Now how was I supposed to meet up with Jason tomorrow?

//\\\

TUESDAY, JULY 3

I was watched like a hawk all day. I was never left alone. Even if I couldn’t see anyone watching me, I could feel eyes on my back. It frustrated me.

I helped Alfred make dinner. And then I actually managed to convince Bruce that I wouldn’t leave if all of the Batfamily went out that night. Of course, around one in the morning, I did the exact opposite. I made my way to Jason’s apartment, doing my best to avoid the alleys. I just hoped that no one would see me.

I knew that Jason was out being Red Hood, so I scrawled a note of apology and left it where he could see it. There was no way I’d be able to get out of the manor the rest of my punishment, but I had to let Jason know that I was still interested.

I hurried back to the manor. I ran, actually. I hope there weren’t security cameras set up around the building. Otherwise, Bruce would know I snuck out. Again. But I wouldn’t do it until the week was over. I would play the part of the obedient girl.

And then, at the end of the week, I would go back to being the rebel.


	8. Life is Short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle continues to meet up with Jason, but how long can she hide it from the rest of the Batfamily?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: language

ELLE

Life is short. That is one thing that everyone needs to remember. Ninety or one hundred years seems like a long time. It isn’t. And so many bad things can happen before then that cut life short. Illness. Motor accidents. Murder. And suddenly, your life is even shorter. It’s when they’re about to die that most people realize how little time they really had in life. But it’s too late, and they’re dead. Gone. Just like that.

The older you are, the more likely you’ll have realized this. When you live with your parents and go to school, death seems like such a long way off. You have plans for the future. You think you’ll be able to accomplish most, if not all, of them. But when you’re on your own and you suddenly have to balance work and family and fun activities, suddenly there isn’t much room for anything else. Time flies, and suddenly, you’re old and retired. You realize just how little you actually did with your life and wish you could go back and start over. But you can’t.

People make fun of teenagers for having bucket lists, but in reality, the teenagers who have bucket lists realize just how short a time they have to live. They make a list of all the things they want to see or do and cross them off as they accomplish them. It’s living to the fullest, like I said before. Don’t hesitate, because that hesitation might feel like a second, but it’s actually years and years, wasted. Don’t just talk; actually do the things you want to.

That’s what I did by going to Jason. It was a risk to go to him. He could have killed me. Or Bruce could have found out and kept me locked in the manor, away from Jason. Even along the way, I could have been kidnapped or murdered by the crazies who roam the streets of Gotham. But I wanted to learn how to fight, so I went to the only person who would teach me.

Slowly, I’m learning to take my own advice. I’m learning to stop hesitating, stop procrastinating, and just live.

//\\\

MONDAY, JULY 8

I woke up with the help of my nightmares, once again. It was early. Again. I did my now-routine sit-ups and push-ups and recorded my progress in a small notebook Tim had given me after realizing I’d run out of books. I took a shower and headed downstairs. 

I no longer hid up in my room until breakfast. I was making more of an effort to talk more to my soon-to-be family. And I was now on breakfast duty with Alfred every other day and dinner on the others. If I wasn’t making breakfast but I was up early, I usually just sat in the living room and waited to go into the kitchen. Sometimes, Tim or Dick (who had left a couple of days ago back to Bludhaven) would also be up and we’d talk. They still refused to tell me any details about what happened at night or in the Batcave, though.

My punishment was supposed to be over today, but I wanted to ask Bruce or Alfred before I went for a run – something I’d missed doing, if only to try to get in shape, especially now that Jason was teaching me how to fight.

At breakfast, I did ask Bruce, who told me I was no longer grounded. I received my laptop and cell phone from Alfred after the meal. I transferred my exercise log from the notebook to my Word document. Then I grabbed my library books and headed downstairs. 

“Alfred, I’m going to the library,” I told said man.

“Would you like me to drive you there, miss?” Alfred asked.

I shook my head. “Thanks, but I want to walk.”

Alfred eyed the stack of books in my arms. “That won’t do. Wait one moment, please.”

I waited by the door. When Alfred returned, he had a backpack with him. “This was master Richard’s when he attended school,” Alfred told me. He helped me put the books in the bag. I shouldered the backpack.

“Thanks,” I told him, grinning.

I went to the library for about an hour. Then I made my way to Jason’s apartment. I knocked. When Jason answered, he quirked an eyebrow.

“Running away again?” he asked, nodding towards the backpack. “Because you’re not staying here.”

I slid into his apartment. “It’s library books,” I corrected. “So what am I learning today?”

Jason threw his motorcycle helmet over to me as he walked out the door. I hurried to follow him.

“I’m thinking more blocks,” Jason said. “And defensive maneuvers.”

I nodded in agreement. I’d heard somewhere – probably a movie – that a strong defense was a good offense. Not to mention, good self defense in general.

Jason drove us to a park. When we got there, he made me run a lap around the edge of it for a warm up. I was exhausted afterwards, but I was unwilling to give up. Jason spent the next couple of hours teaching me more defense moves. He even taught me the basic punch, which I had some problems with:

“Come on,” Jason said, hands raised, palm faced me. “Punch harder.” I tried for the millionth time. “You keep pulling your punches. Don’t.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said pathetically.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Come on, kid, just do it. I’ve had worse than whatever real punch you can actually land.”

I frowned. “I’m not horrible at punching.”

“You’re pulling your punches, and those barely touch me.”

I tried again. And again. And again.

“Is that really the best you’ve got?” Jason snorted. “This is a waste of time.”

Angry, I tried again. I didn’t pull the punch this time, but it was sloppy.

“Oh, look, you’re angry,” Jason mocked. “Try channeling that anger into focus.”

“You’re one to talk,” I muttered.

“Hey, how do you think I’m such a good shot?” Jason retorted.

I used my anger and frustration I felt and put it into my punches. I did so several more times until Jason was satisfied.

“Tomorrow?” I asked later when he dropped me off in front of the library.

“Whatever, kid,” Jason replied, driving off. I took that as a yes.

//\\\

TUESDAY, JULY 9

Excited, I did the same routine as I had yesterday, and then some. I woke up early – again, to nightmares – did sit-ups and push-ups, went for a run, helped make breakfast and clean up, then went out. I just told Alfred that I wanted to see more of Gotham, and seeing that Tim was busy doing whatever he did, I would go alone. Alfred allowed me to do so, as long as I had my phone on me.

I spent a much longer time with Jason today than I had yesterday. We worked on perfecting the moves I’d already learned until the last hour, when we did a sort of spar using those moves. Jason would try to punch me and I would try to block or duck out of the way, and vice versa.

Jason teased me a bit, though. Well, he was sarcastic and mocking, but I was pretty sure that was just his way of poking fun at me. I didn’t mind at all.

“You’re way too serious,” he told me at one point as we had a stand-off. I tried to fake a punch, but Jason used that to land a hit on my stomach. I fell to the ground, but I didn’t cry out, which was better than I’d done earlier. “You done yet?”

“Not a chance,” I panted, getting back up on my feet. I observed his body language, trying to get an idea of where he was going to try to punch next.

“Lighten up, Tiger,” Jason said, throwing another punch that I barely managed to block. “You’re too tense. Your reaction times slow down the tighter your muscles are.”

I scowled. “I hate tigers.” 

I aimed a left-handed punch towards his chest. As he blocked it, I tried to hit his jaw with an uppercut punch. He caught my wrists. Unable to break free, I aimed a kick for his left ankle. Jason used my poor technique to lock my own ankle around his, tripping me. Jason let go of my wrists, letting me fall.

“Slow down there, Cougar,” Jason said. “No kicks for a couple of weeks.”

I sighed but nodded. Jason dropped me off at the library again, and I ran back Wayne Manor. I was glad that Jason didn’t punch me very hard, otherwise I’d have a bunch of bruises I’d need to explain away. I had a couple of bruises, but they were small and easily explained away.

And so my new routine began.

//\\\

FRIDAY, AUGUST 14

It had been a little over a month since Jason started teaching me how to fight. In that time, I’d more or less perfected the defensive moves and gotten a lot better at punching. I’d learned basic kicking techniques, as well, although those I was having trouble with. Jason had also shown me where the spare key to his apartment was and had bought me my own motorcycle helmet. I’d stopped going straight to the manor after practice; I’d go back to Jason’s apartment and hang out with him. I was pretty sure I’d grown on him, too. Not like he’d ever admit it. But he’s trained me in fighting for as long as I wanted three or four days a week, so he must at least enjoy having company.

I still had my push-ups and sit-ups routine (I could do both of them a lot more easily now, although I still struggled with push-ups) and I ran in the mornings (and again whenever I trained with Jason). My excuse for leaving was that I’d made a friend and was spending time with him, which was pretty much true. I just didn’t mention any names.

I had been out two days in a row, though, so I had to stay in the manor today. I spent my morning after breakfast reading and watching Batman cartoons – the former in the living room and the latter in my bedroom. When I went down for a quick lunch, I was surprised to see Dick there.

I smiled. “Dickie!” I exclaimed, earning a teasing glare from him. He pulled me into a hug.

“Master Dick, Miss Elle,” Alfred said, handing us sandwiches. We thanked him and sat in the living room. Lunch was informal, something I enjoyed.

“How’ve you been, Ellie?” Dick asked, taking a bite of his food.

I shrugged. “Good.”

“You sure?”

Okay, now I knew something was up. I looked at Dick questioningly.

“Tim says you made a friend,” Dick said.

I nodded. “Yeah. He and I hang out a lot.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “He’s not forcing you to do anything, is he?”

I nearly choked on my food. I stared wide-eyed at the man beside me. “What? No!”

“Bruce and Tim have noticed that you spend nearly full days with this person none of us have met,” Dick said. “And then you come back here exhausted.”

I bit my lip. I struggled for an answer. “I go for runs a lot,” I told him, which was true. “He and I go running together. Or go to his place.” Both true.

“Alfred is worried, too,” Dick went on. “No one’s met your friend. We just want to make sure he isn’t a creep and that you’re not getting hurt.”

I smiled, hopefully in a reassuring manner. “He’s not. I promise. I wouldn’t talk to him if he was.”

Dick nodded, seemingly satisfied. I hoped he was. After all, he was a cop during the day and Nightwing at night. And I wasn’t good at reading people at all, much less a Bat.

Dick dropped the subject, and no one else confronted me about it, so I assumed that it was all taken care of.

//\\\

SATURDAY, AUGUST 15

I left the manor as I did so often now with no complaints, only a ‘be safe’ from Dick, who had crashed at the manor after making an appearance as Nightwing last night.

I entered Jason’s apartment. “You ready?” I asked. He tossed me my helmet.

“Let’s go, Cougar.”

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly at the nickname. But, like with Dick calling me Ellie, there was no stopping Jason from calling me Cougar.

Today was a ‘lesson’ day, which meant that we spent the entire time with a new move, or adding an additional kick or punch or twist to one big complicated maneuver. The moves had become a lot more complicated, but I picked up each part quick. It was the actual usage of them that I had difficulty with.

We’d practiced longer than usual today, not to mention I wanted to spend some time with Dick before he returned to Bludhaven, so we didn’t stop by Jason’s apartment. Jason gave me a ride to the library, and then I headed back to the manor. I was getting good at this. And, to be honest, I enjoyed spending time with Jason.

Later that night, Dick came into my room. It was one of those nights where the Bats actually slept – yes, they had those. Dick stood in my doorway for a moment before speaking.

“I saw you with Jason,” Dick said simply, leaning against the doorframe. My eyes shot up to him, my book quickly forgotten. I placed the book aside, angry.

“You followed me?” I accidentally yelled. I stood up abruptly and walked over to Dick. “You had no right to do that!”

“The others were worried,” Dick said. “And, after seeing how much in a rush you were this morning, I was too. Not to mention your reactions to how conversation yesterday. You’re a convincing liar, except that you were eating.” I frowned, not understanding. Dick elaborated, “You stop or slow down chewing when you’re about to lie or thinking about a lie.”

“Technically, I didn’t lie,” I muttered, crossing my arms and lowering my gaze to the ground.

Dick sighed and put a hand on my shoulder. “Jason’s dangerous, Elle. You need to stop meeting up with him.”

I pulled away sharply, glaring at the floor. “No.”

“Elle –”

“I said no!” I shouted, glaring daggers at him. “Like it or not, he’s my friend. More than that, he’s my future family, just as much as you or Bruce or Tim is!”

“He’s a criminal,” Dick replied tightly. “And he’s changed you.”

I stared at him, astonished. “How?” I demanded, exasperated.

“Your temper, for one,” Dick replied. “How long until he turns you into a murderer, too?”

Forgetting how I’d met Jason, I retorted, “That’s not going to happen. And I just happen to agree with his methods of fighting crime, thank you very much!”

“That’s not how we do things!” Dick finally yelled, unleashing his own anger and frustration.

“No, that’s not how you do things!” I spat. “I’m not a Bat, remember? I don’t go around fighting crime.”

“Even agreeing with Jason’s method of ‘controlling crime’ is different about you,” Dick snapped. “He’s changed the way you think.”

“I’ve always thought this way, Dick. No one ever asked.”

“You’re being ridiculous!” Dick exclaimed.

“What’s going on?” Tim asked, appearing in my doorway. I shuffled my feet before regaining my posture. I couldn’t show weakness. But it was hard not to when I was going to be arguing against two Bats at once.

“Elle’s been meeting up with Jason,” Dick told the third Robin.

Tim stared at me in shock. “Are you insane?” he asked. “This is Jason we’re talking about! He tried to kill me, in case you didn’t know!”

“He can’t be trusted,” Dick added.

I felt the tears coming and knew I had to do something before I showed weakness. “Why’d you really follow me in the first place?” I demanded. “Didn’t you trust me?”

“I trusted you,” Dick told me. His voice had calmed, but his body language still showed how angry he was. Tim seemed to be in a state of shock or denial. He stared at me wide-eyed, probably unable to accept that I was friends with Jason.

“Then why’d you follow me?” I repeated.

“Besides the lies and the worries?” Dick said. “I trusted you, but I didn’t trust whoever you were with. Turns out I was right.”

“Of all the people you hang out with, you choose Jason Todd!” Tim exclaimed, shaking his head.

“It’s not just hanging out,” Dick informed him. “He’s teaching Elle how to fight.”

“He’s what?”

“Get out,” I growled, tired of being treated like a child. I was starting to feel more and more ganged up on. “I’m not having this conversation.”

“Elle –”

“Get the fuck out of my room!” I screamed, cutting off whatever Tim was going to say. Even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good, I pushed on Dick to get him out of the doorway. Dick must have given up on reasoning with me – at least for tonight – because he let himself be pushed out into the hallway. He motioned for Tim to leave, as well.

As soon as I had closed the door, I sank onto my bed and cried.


	9. Life Sucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle and the Batfamily continue to argue about Jason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: language

ELLE

Life sucks. That’s what teenagers say. That’s what some adults say. That’s the motto of this generation. Life sucks.

And it really does. It sucks the energy out of you. It sucks out your motivation and your dreams. But then it warps your reality. It sucks you into a new reality and then you have to start all over. 

Over the years, you grow tired of doing the same repetitive motions every day: getting up, eating food, go to work, go to sleep. Over and over until you’re just tired of it. You wonder what the point to continuing is. You wonder if there’s anything out there that’s more exciting. You wonder if you’ll get back all of that energy ever again, but it’s unlikely that you will.

As you grow older, you find it hard to motivate yourself to do anything because your dreams are just that: dreams. The reason you tried so hard in elementary school was so you could become a doctor, but then that dream dies out, and so does your motivation to get A’s on all your tests. You try to pass high school so that you can get into university, but once you’ve made it, you’re not motivated anymore. When you stop having dreams, you stop having that very important motivation that keeps you moving forward.

By sucking away your dreams, life shows you a new reality, one where it just isn’t possible to achieve greatness or whatever it was that you’d wanted to do. You wanted to be the first man on Mars when you were younger, but as soon as you realized it just isn’t possible, you are faced with a new reality. This reality is one where you just can’t go to Mars, so there is no point in even thinking about it. But now that this dream and this motivation are gone, you need to find a new one; otherwise, you’re stuck living with no purpose.

Life sucked the energy out of me the day my family died. It sucked more of my energy when I was placed in foster care. Any dreams I had vanished, and so did my motivation to do well in school. I was shown cruel reality: that I wasn’t going anywhere.

But life gave me a new hand of cards. It gave me Bruce, Dick, Tim, Alfred, and Jason. My energy has been renewed. My dream is to be up to par with the rest of the Batfamily. That is my motivation to keep learning how to fight, despite what Dick and Tim might think.

If they take me away from Jason, then my dream and motivation will vanish, and so, I think, will my energy.

//\\\

SUNDAY, AUGUST 16

I woke up early, did my usual routine, and then procrastinated going to breakfast. I considered just not showing up. Starvation certainly seemed the better option than facing Dick and Tim. And, knowing them, they’d probably told Alfred and Bruce. Honestly, I was scared about what Bruce would say.

My anger had died down a lot overnight and during my run. But I was still a little mad and frustrated that I was being treated like a child. I knew what I could and could not handle. I knew one side of Jason and had seen Jason’s other side the night he saved me.

Eventually, I mustered up the courage to go down to breakfast. I told myself that no matter what was said, I would either keep quiet or, at the very least, try to be reasonable. If I lashed out like I had last night, I would only get myself into further trouble. Not to mention – thinking back to the argument – I sounded as childish as they made me feel. I needed to be a mature adult about this. I took a deep breath outside the kitchen before finally entering the room.

I was the last one to show up. I hastily took my seat, but was unable to meet anyone’s eyes. It wasn’t so much that I was guilty about hanging out and training with Jason. It was the embarrassment that I’d been caught, the embarrassment at how easily I’d been to anger, and maybe a little guilty that I went behind their backs. But I didn’t regret meeting and talking to Jason.

“Elle, I know you’re still mad at us,” Tim started the dreaded conversation as we began eating. “But you have to realize that Jason isn’t a good person.”

Feeling my anger start to bubble again, I took three deep breaths and a bite of fruit before answering. “I have to disagree,” I said as calmly and maturely as I could. I still didn’t look up. I didn’t want to start yelling again.

“He’s killed people,” Bruce said gruffly. “He’s a criminal.”

He’s your son, I wanted to say. He’s a Bat, too, I wanted to say. Instead, I said, “I guess. It depends on how you look at it.”

“How you look at it?” Dick asked incredulously. “He’s killed over and over again with no regrets. What else would you call it?”

“Anti-hero,” I stated simply. I could go into specifics. I could rant for hours. But I wouldn’t. It would only rile me up and anger them.

Tim scoffed. Bruce told me, “I still don’t want you anywhere near him.”

“But –”

“No ‘buts.’”

Furious, I stood from the table. “It’s not like I’m talking to the Joker or something,” I spat before stomping out of the room. Even though I’d managed to keep my temper mostly intact, I realized afterwards how immature my exit had been. That really didn’t work in my favor.

I stayed in my room. I mostly just read my library books or surfed the internet. But my thoughts kept bouncing back to my anger and frustration with the Batfamily. After a few hours in my room, I gave up trying to calm down. Grabbing my cell phone, I snuck out of the manor through my window, just as I’d done the first time.

Jason must have seen me coming because he opened his door before I’d even reached it. He gave me my helmet as he went over to his motorcycle.

I smirked. “Do you even have a job?” I teased. After all, every time I came by, he was there.

Jason shot me a look. “That would be telling.”

We went to the park and did our usual warm-up. Today was one of the days where I practiced everything I’d learned, and then we’d spar. I’d gotten a lot better a feints and punches. Unfortunately, I was not very strong as a whole, nor were my kicks very good. Today, I was a bit sloppy due to my anger. But I needed to release my frustration on something, and Jason was willing to take it.

As my maneuvers continued to be sloppy, Jason said, “What did I say about channeling your anger?” I thought I detected a hint of concern in there, but I wasn’t certain, nor did I particularly care.

Eventually, I managed to focus my anger into my attacks. My moves were cleaner and I even managed to get Jason on the ground more than once. I was pretty sure he let me do that, but still. It made me feel better.

I was just starting to enjoy the sparring instead of using it solely to release my emotions, but then it all came rushing back at me when Dick showed up. Jason and I stopped our sparring match, much to my disappointment and frustration.

“What’re you doing here, Dickie-Bird?” Jason asked, not caring.

“Trying to find her,” Dick gestured at me. I crossed my arms and glared at the ground.

“I need a babysitter, now?” I muttered.

“Stay away from her, Jason,” Dick threatened. “I don’t want you brainwashing her to become a criminal.”

“Oh, I think she’s doing perfectly fine on her own,” Jason replied. I knew that he said that just to get under Dick’s skin, but it still hurt for a moment that Jason had basically called me a criminal-in-training, or whatever.

Dick glared at Jason. “You need help, Jason,” he said. “You can’t just corrupt innocent teenagers.”

I shifted my feet. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with how Jason and I felt and thought about crime. It was frustrating that Dick couldn’t respect that Jason and I didn’t follow the same policy that he did. And the fact that he called me innocent annoyed me. I wasn’t a little girl. I was nearly an adult.

“You gonna hit me?” Jason mocked, eying the way Dick’s body was tense and ready to spring. “I doubt you will. You’re just like Bruce.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. Why oh why was Jason egging Dick on? The situation was bad enough without him making it worse!

And worse it was. I didn’t know who started it, but Jason and Dick were suddenly kicking and punching each other like it was no one’s business. I did my best to stay out of the way. I watched their moves with interest. Now that Jason had taught me some maneuvers, I could make out the patterns in the fighting – a sort of dance, I mused.

But as I stood there, all the anger and fight just went out of me. Perhaps a part of it was the long, exhausting, really hot summer day – and I was wearing a pair of Barbara’s shorts and one of Tim’s shirts, knotted at the waist so it would fit me a bit better – but it could have also been that my body was tired of being mad. 

I bit my lip and fiddled with the end of my – Tim’s – shirt, wondering if I should stop them, and if I did, how would I even be able to? I’d probably only end up getting hurt, at the rate their punches and kicks landed was any indication. 

But it seemed like I needn’t have worried, for Dick landed one final punch to Jason’s stomach and then walked towards me. Jason, with a bloody lip, held his stomach and glared at Dick’s back. Dick grabbed my arm roughly, not enough to bruise, but enough to hurt. And enough for me to not be able to get loose.

“Let’s go,” Dick said.

“Wait,” I told him. 

When Dick continued dragging me away, I elbowed him in the side, quickly followed by a sharp kick to the ankle. I twisted away so that he had to let go of my arm or risk breaking his wrist. He chose the former. I was pretty sure the only way I’d even managed to do that was because Dick hadn’t expected it. I’d caught him off-guard, that was all. A part of me was disappointed that I wouldn’t actually be able to get away from Dick in a real fight. But then I remembered why I’d wanted to get away.

I ran back to Jason. “Do you have your phone on you?” I asked.

Jason nodded warily. “Why?” he asked suspiciously.

I rolled my eyes and held my hand out. After a moment of hesitation and a glance over at an angry Dick, Jason handed me his phone. I put my cell phone number into it then returned it.

“That’s my number,” I said. “Be sure to text me so I know what number to call when I need to escape the Bats.” I smirked. Jason shot me a smirk back.

“You know, we’re technically going to be related,” Jason told me slyly. “And incest is frowned upon in Gotham.”

I laughed, knowing he was just joking. Dick called my name. I walked over to him. Dick had driven into the city, so the trip back to the manor was short. Along the way, I received a text, which I knew was from Jason:

JASON: Kick ass, Cougar.

I chuckled at the text. I wasn’t sure if he was serious, but I wasn’t planning on taking his advice. Dick shot me a look. I ignored him. Jason was my friend and one of my future brothers. End of story.

Within minutes of being in the manor, Tim, Bruce, and Dick had me trapped in the living room. They stared at me, disapproving. I sat in the corner of the couch, silent.

“Well?” Bruce prompted.

I shrugged. “What do you want me to say?” I asked. No one answered. “I’m friends with Jason. I snuck out to meet with him. I’ll do it again.”

“He’s dangerous,” Tim said.

I sighed. I was tired of hearing the same excuses. I wasn’t even angry anymore. I was frustrated, sure, but I was more tired than anything else. I just wanted to move on. I didn’t understand why they couldn’t get over it. But there were the Bats for you. Stubborn. The lot of them.

“Can we not?” I half-pleaded, bringing my legs up to my chest. “Can we please just agree to disagree?”

“What has he done to you that you’re so loyal to him?” Bruce demanded. “He’s deceitful and cunning. He must have done something.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I genuinely like him as a person?” I asked. I think it came out a little whiny. But I was about to cry again, and I really didn’t feel like doing that in front of them.

“You’re confused,” Dick said, shaking his head. “You’re mixing up whatever the cartoons and stuff say with reality.”

To my horror, I started crying. I tried to keep my voice steady. “Why can’t you understand that I’m old enough to make my own decisions?” I buried my head in my knees, embarrassed at my tears. No, this wasn’t okay. I couldn’t cry. Not in front of the Bats. It was a sign of weakness, and I didn’t want to be perceived as weak. Especially not now.

I felt someone – probably Dick, the only Bat who liked to hug – put his arms around me. I stiffened and tried to pull away. Dick – it was definitely Dick, from the cologne he used – only pulled me into his chest. I didn’t relax, but the tears came pouring out faster. I let out a sob.

“Ssh, Ellie,” Dick said gently. He put his head on mine. I let him.

“We’re not trying to make you feel like a child,” Bruce said.

“But I feel like you are,” I admitted. “I promise that if Jason was hurting me, I’d tell you. If he did something to me, I’d tell you. But he’s nice. At least to me.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Tim warned.

“I just want to drop the subject,” I told them. “I’m tired of arguing. I just want you to stop ganging up on me.”

Dick pulled away, I looked up, wiping my eyes.

“I’m sorry we made you feel that way,” Dick told me.

“I’m sorry, too,” Tim agreed. Bruce nodded.

“I know just the way we can make up for it,” Dick smirked.

Dick declared it Family Movie Night. He claimed it was to make me feel better. In all honesty, though, I think that he hated the arguing as much as I did. Bruce even stayed for the movie. By the end of the movie, there was popcorn all over the couch and floor, a half-asleep Bruce in the love seat, Dick passed out on the floor, and Alfred standing by the door observing the scene.

And if I relaxed and accidentally fell asleep on Tim, well, no one said anything about it.


	10. Life Expectancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle spends a day out in the city thanks to Bruce. Then Jason wants to hang out with her. Not like he'd ever admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: language

ELLE

The life expectancy of someone living in the United States is about 78-point-something years. But what does that really mean? After all, plenty of people die young for a multitude of reasons, and at the same time, several of them exceed 78 years of age. I don’t understand why we have to put a number statistic on how many years a person lives on average.

Not to mention, as I said before, living and existing are different. So maybe the life expectancy of 78 years is more like how many years you manage to exist. Otherwise, I suspect that the number would be much, much lower. Or perhaps it wouldn’t exist, depending on how it was measured. You can truly live for a few years or months or days, but then just breathe and exist, only to go back to the true state of living. So it would be near impossible to measure that statistic.

And again, I ask, why do we bother having a number for that?

Because that’s all it is. A number. It’s not the definite number of years any individual will survive. The number of years a person lives is subject to change at any moment. Life is constantly changing, and so, obviously, can the number of years you will live.

I stopped living for a long time, after my family died. But now I’m learning to live again.

//\\\

SUNDAY, AUGUST 23

It had been a week since the Batfamily and I had made up. I’d snuck out twice to train with Jason, but besides a little bit of protesting and disappointed stares, there was no real arguing. Dick had returned to Bludhaven, but he texted me sometimes. Tim and I tried to hang out more by playing video games or going to the arcade or library. Bruce even skipped out on work to bring Tim and I out to lunch once. I supposed that we were all getting used to me being part of the family. Or, almost.

My training with Jason was going well. I’d wanted to stay overnight at his apartment once, but I figured that I’d be in a lot of trouble with Bruce. When I wasn’t practicing with Jason, I practiced on my own in my room. I was slowly but surely becoming better at fighting. It was exciting.

I was just about to go meet up with Jason when Bruce stopped me. I was worried that he was going to lecture me, once again, about the dangers of hanging out with Jason, but it was all for naught.

“Let’s go to lunch,” Bruce demanded – his way of asking, I supposed. He wasn’t exactly the most emotional and heartfelt man in the world.

I fiddled with the bottom of my – Barbara’s – shirt nervously. “I had plans,” I replied.

Bruce fixed a stare on me. I had to fight the urge to look away.

“Cancel them,” was all Bruce said before heading towards the exit.

I bit my lip before sending a hasty text to Jason. I followed Bruce to his car. Bruce drove us to a small, inexpensive diner. As we sat with our menus, I looked around the place appreciatively.

“I didn’t know you knew what modest was,” I teased.

Bruce grinned slightly. “I figured it would make you more comfortable.”

I wanted to ask what Bruce wanted to talk to me about – because it was really obvious, judging by the place and the fact that Tim hadn’t been invited – but he refused to say anything on the subject until we were halfway through our meal.

“Do you still want to go through with the adoption?” Bruce asked suddenly, completely off-topic.

I blinked. “Do you still want to adopt me?” I countered quietly. I put down my fork and looked down at my lap. Had he changed his mind? I wouldn’t be surprised. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“That’s not what I asked,” Bruce said.

I shrugged indifferently. “If you don’t want me, just say it,” I told him softly, fighting back the tears. I’d known it was too good to be true, being adopted by one of my heroes. I should have never let my hopes up.

“Elle, no,” Bruce said. He took my hand, prompting me to look up at him, watery eyes and all. “I do want you. I want to adopt you. But if you’re not ready for this, you need to tell me now.”

I pulled my hand away. “You’re right. I’m not ready to be adopted.” I took a breath. “But I still want you to adopt me.” I shook my head. “But why would you? You know me better now than you did when you first met me. You know that I’m trouble. Why would you want to adopt me, of all people?”

“You’re worried about being trouble after I’ve adopted Dick, Tim, and Jason?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow. 

I shrugged. “Yeah.”

“If I can handle them, then I can handle you,” Bruce said. I grinned. “But you’re wrong about one thing.”

I tilted my head. “What?”

“I don’t know you better now. At least not much.” Bruce sighed. “And to be honest, I don’t think any of us really do.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Yes you do. You know that I’m shy and on my own a lot. And that I like martial arts.”

“But that’s pretty much all we really know about you, Elle,” Bruce said gently. “Why haven’t you told us anything about yourself? Favorite color, favorite food, what you want as a career, what your family was like –”

“You never asked,” I said abruptly, cutting off anything else he might say.

“I’m asking you now,” Bruce said.

I hesitated before replying, “What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Anything at all. Just tell me one thing about yourself.”

I thought for a few minutes as I ate my wrap. Bruce deserved more than just knowing my favorite color, but I was nowhere near ready to tell him about my family. I didn’t want to say anything that was easy to say, but I didn’t want to tell him something that was more or less a secret best kept that way.

I didn’t say anything until Bruce had paid and we had returned to the car. Before he could start driving, I told him one thing about me. 

“I don’t know what to do, or who I want to be, after high school,” I admitted. “I don’t have any dreams, any ideas at all. When I was younger, I wanted to work behind the scenes of a Batman cartoon.” I blushed as I said that, but I kept going. “I wasn’t sure what exactly I wanted to do. Animator or screenwriter or editor, it didn’t matter to me.” I paused.

“What changed?” Bruce asked. I was glad he didn’t make fun of me or thought I was weird or a creepy fan for wanting to work on cartoons that were based on him.

I shrugged. “I grew up. My family died. I lived in foster care. I realized that the likelihood of me ever getting into college was pretty near zero. So I let go of that dream.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know,” I murmured. “I just don’t know.” I had so many more opportunities now than I’d had before. The entire world was open to me, but I was lost. I didn’t know what to make of it all. I hadn’t really thought about a career.

“Well, first thing’s first,” Bruce said, finally pulling out of the parking space. “You finish high school. You’ll be attending Gotham Academy in September.”

Great. Uniform.

“So where are we going now?” I asked, noticing that we weren’t driving back to Wayne Manor.

“It’s about time you got your own clothes,” Bruce said. I smiled. “You haven’t been to the mall yet, have you?” I shook my head. “Then buy whatever you want. Clothes, things to decorate your room, whatever you need.”

I stared at Bruce, startled. “But that’s too much.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Bruce told me. He parked next to the mall and handed me a credit card despite my protests.

I grinned. Before I could think about it, I hugged Bruce. It was quick, but it startled both of us. I blushed bright red, still grinning.

“Thank you,” I said.

“I’ll meet you back here in three hours,” Bruce said. “I have some business to attend to.”

Right. Business.

The first thing I did was get the Gotham Academy uniform. Because Gotham Academy was a local private school, all of the stores sold their uniforms. After I’d received the uniform, I had some fun getting new clothes.

I got jeans, workout shorts, sweatpants, various shirts, lots of shoes, sweatshirts, pajamas, socks, and a jean jacket. It was only after some consideration that I bought some formal clothes – a dress, two pairs of slacks, and two nice shirts.

After that, I went to one of the other stores in the mall. I bought purple sheets, pillowcases, and blankets. I bought several books at the bookstore. At another store, I bought school supplies and a black-and-red backpack. At the last store I went to, I bought an iPod Touch and several CDs.

It was a miracle I could even carry everything. It was just a lot of putting bags within bags within bags. And pure willpower.

I had an hour to kill after all that. I was going to hang out in the food court, but when I passed the hairdresser, I went in. My hair was cut into a bob, with the front of my hair reaching my chin and the back of my hair reached the top of my neck.

I grabbed my bags and dragged myself out to the parking lot, where Bruce was waiting patiently. He helped me get everything into the car. He complimented me on my haircut.

The first thing I did when I got back to the Manor was put everything into my closet and dresser. I made my bed with my new covers and pillowcases. My bookshelf now had one shelf of library books and one shelf of books that I owned, plus CDs on the top of it.

Things were starting to look up. Again.

//\\\

MONDAY, AUGUST 24

I awoke to my phone beeping to tell me I had a text message. At least it was better than waking up from a nightmare. I reached over and squinted at the sudden light from my phone.

JASON: Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We got shit to do.

I sighed, still trying to wake up. It was four in the morning. I usually didn’t wake up until six or seven.

ELLE: Sleeping. Try again later.

JASON: Park. Now.

ELLE: Why?

Jason never answered my text. Groaning, I got up. I skipped my morning routine and shower, dressed in the first thing I could find, left a note in the kitchen for Alfred to see, then left.

What was so important that Jason had to meet up with me at four – now four-thirty – in the morning?

Jason must have gotten impatient, because before I was even a block into Gotham City, he came speeding around the corner on his motorcycle. I put on my helmet, which he handed to me, and climbed on.

“What do you even want?” I complained, still half-asleep.

Jason didn’t even look at me. “Nice hair.”

When we’d arrived at the park, we did our normal run around the outside edge. We also sparred, but Jason didn’t hold back as much. After a few hours of this, and I was getting hungry, I finally had to stop for a break.

“Why did you want to meet now? This early?” I asked, truly puzzled.

“Why not?” Jason countered. He observed my exhausted form. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” I shook my head. “Right. Breakfast. Let’s go.”

Breakfast was sharing a box of Dunkin Donuts munchkins and orange juice. We sat at the park bench after returning from getting out food, eating in silence. And then it hit me. I turned to Jason, a teasing grin on my face.

“You missed me,” I declared. Jason snorted and rolled his eyes. “You wanted to spend time with me.”

“So what?” Jason snapped.

I shrugged. “If you wanted to hang out, you could’ve just said so.”

Jason didn’t say anything. But for once, we spent most of our time together not practicing my fighting moves. We went to a movie, making fun of it the entire time and annoying the other viewers. We ate hotdogs for lunch and then went back to the park. We just walked around this time, talking. It felt nice. I finally had a friend. And I liked to think that he thought of me the same way.

I received texts throughout the day from Tim, asking where I was and when I would be home. I ignored the word ‘home,’ for I still thought of it as Wayne Manor; my real home was gone. I simply shot back quick texts saying that I was okay and that I was safe. Bruce tried calling me a few times, but I ignored him. I was enjoying my day with Jason, and nothing would stop that.

In mid-afternoon, Jason offered to teach me how to shoot a gun. I only hesitated for a half a second – guns were dangerous, after all – but I was all too eager to learn. Jason took me to a place where no one was around. He set up targets and showed me how to hold and aim the gun.

I was really bad at it.

I missed every shot except one:

“Is that the best you got, Cougar?” Jason taunted. “Anyone can shoot a gun. You’re just bad at it.”

A few shots later, I finally hit one of the targets. Barely, but I’d hit it.

“Good job, kid, you got one,” Jason commented sarcastically.

I smirked. “Thanks. I was pretending it was your face.”

Jason chuckled. “You’ve got spunk, kid.”

I wished he’d stop calling me kid. He was only a couple of years older than me.

We went back to his place, watched crap television, and ate cold pizza. Jason basically asked me to stay the night, in his own way:

“It’s a while back to the manor if you’re walking, and I’m almost out of gas. Feel free to crash here. Just don’t touch my shit.”

I decided to stay overnight. Jason went out as Red Hood, leaving me in his apartment. But I was glad that he even let me stay there. I texted Tim my whereabouts, then settled in to sleep.


	11. Living Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle's first day of school doesn't exactly go as planned...

ELLE

In order to truly live, you have to live correctly. There is a right way to live. It doesn’t have anything to do with morals or the black-and-white that everyone seems to view the world as. The right way to live is to do what you believe is correct. 

Stand up to others. Stand up for what you believe in. Yes, this includes doing things and saying things that others might not agree with. It might land you in jail, or dead. But to live right, you need to live by your own rules, not by anyone else’s. Otherwise, you’re living their lives, and giving up yours.

Live the way you want to, the way that you believe; that is the correct way to live. If you believe, for instance, that guns are an acceptable way to get rid of crime – and I’m not just thinking about Jason – then I say go for it. If you follow everyone else’s rules, then you’re not being true to yourself. That’s just as bad as being a sheep. A mindless, stupid sheep.

No one wants to be a sheep. Everyone wants to be their own wolf or lion. The only way you can do that is to take off the sheep’s skin and reveal who you are to everyone else, regardless of the consequences. Don’t pretend to be a sheep. Proudly display your different attributes that makes you unique. Be you. Live right.

That’s one piece of advice I’m not too good at taking, myself.

//\\\

MONDAY, AUGUST 31

The alarm on my phone woke me up at five. I did my push-ups and sit-ups, went for a run, then showered and changed into my school uniform. Because the school day started at eight, there was no set breakfast in the morning anymore, as Alfred had told me the day before. So at seven o’ clock, I grabbed a piece of toast and then waited nervously in the foyer for Tim to be ready to go. Alfred drove us to the school.

I looked at the students from the car. I tugged nervously on my skirt and straightened my hair with my fingers. I didn’t fit in at all. I was ashamed to admit that I was very nervous to go to class. Tim showed me to the main office, where I got my schedule: history, geometry, English, gym, lunch, chemistry, study hall, art.

Because I was a junior and Tim was a senior, the only classes we had together were study hall and art. We also had lunch together. Tim showed me to my first class, but then left.

No one talked to me in history or geometry. I got along with my English teacher, but some of the other students said that I was sucking up to her. 

Gym was the worst. I hadn’t known that I needed to bring a change of clothes, so I was stuck running around and forced to play soccer in my uniform. A few kids – the same ones from my English class – purposely pushed me to the ground once. They teased me and made fun of me. It hurt, but I ignored them. I was the new kid. It was perfectly normal to be teased. They’d get over it.

I was very happy when lunch came around. I grabbed a hot lunch tray and stood in the middle of the cafeteria, looking for Tim. At least I’d have someone to sit with. I finally found him sitting with who I assumed were his friends. I bit my lip nervously, not ready to talk to anyone besides Tim, but I could potentially make friends. I headed towards them, but some girl from another table stuck her foot out and tripped me. I spilled my lunch all over the floor and my uniform. Embarrassed and near tears, I ran off, trying to find a bathroom. I couldn’t, and ended up wandering the hallways.

Near the end of the lunch block, Tim found me.

“That wasn’t okay, what she did,” he said, frowning.

I shrugged. “I’m the new kid. It’s fine.”

Tim sighed. “You sure?”

I faked a smile. “Yeah.”

We headed to study hall, where I sat with Tim. We got permission to go to the library, so it would be quieter. We did our homework. He finished before I did and went to talk to one of his friends. Of course, as soon as he left, I started having difficulty. But I didn’t want to interrupt him. And besides, I needed to learn to be more independent. I couldn’t rely on Tim to get me through school. So I faked my way through my math and science, heart sinking as I realized that I had no clue what I was doing.

When I was done, I sat at the table alone. I watched as groups or pairs of friends worked together or laughed together or just enjoyed the quiet. One girl caught me staring at her and grinned. She waved me over, but I shook my head, looking down at my lap. She must not have cared too much about the new kid because she never approached me.

I knew that I could have just lost an opportunity to make a friend, but I was too shy. Besides, school was supposed to be for learning. And I didn’t need friends. I had Jason, Dick, Tim, Alfred, and Bruce. And myself. That was all I needed.

My last class was art, which I dreaded. I was horrible at drawing and painting. I preferred writing poems. I sat next to a random kid in the back. Tim sat with his friends in the front. The student beside me was an amazing drawer. My attempt at drawing a bird looked more like a five-year-old’s scribbles.

At long last, it was three o’ clock. Alfred picked us up and drove us back to the manor. He told us that a social worker was there to make sure it was a safe place for me, or something like that. Sure enough, when we entered the building, the social worker was just finishing up her home visit.

She pulled Tim aside and asked him questions. I couldn’t hear what they said, but I assumed it had something to do with living here and about me getting adopted. I was surprised when the social worker headed over to me, next. We sat, alone, in the living room.

“What do you think about living here?” the social worker asked me.

I shrugged, grinning to the best of my ability. I did just have a bad day at school. Not to mention, I still had food stains on my uniform.

“I love it,” I said honestly. “Everything is amazing.”

“What do you think about Bruce?”

“He’s great,” I said. I had to be very careful when talking to this woman. She could very easily take me away from here, something that I definitely didn’t want. “He really cares about me.”

“And Tim?”

“Bruce cares about him just as much as he cares about me,” I said firmly. “And Tim cares about me, too. We get along nicely.”

The social worker must have been satisfied with my answers because she stood up, shook my hand, said goodbye to Bruce, then left. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Talk about pressure. I hoped I hadn’t said anything wrong.

Bruce eyed my stained uniform. I blushed and crossed my arms in an attempt to cover up most of it. “What happened?” he asked gruffly.

“Nothing,” I responded. “I just dropped my lunch.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Not true,” he said, ignoring my pleading gaze not to tell. “The kids at school aren’t exactly welcoming to her.”

“I’m the new kid,” I reminded him flippantly. “It was bound to happen. I don’t care.”

“I’ll go call the school,” Bruce said.

I shook my head wildly. “Please don’t!” I begged. “It’ll just make things worse. And I don’t want any special treatment just because I’m being adopted by Bruce Wayne.”

Bruce studied me for a moment. Finally, he said, “Fine. But if the problem persists, I will notify the principal.”

I nodded and then hurried to my room. I changed into my own clothes and grabbed my laptop. I was just about to watch cartoons when I received a text message.

DICK: How was school?

I was surprised that he cared. It was just school. Nothing special. But sometimes I forgot that as fun-loving as Dick could be, he was also very caring and concerned about anything involving his family. And I guess he considered me family.

ELLE: Meh.

DICK: That bad?

ELLE: It’s fine.

DICK: What happened?

ELLE: Nothing.

DICK: You expect me to believe that?

ELLE: I can handle it.

DICK: Kids are mean…

ELLE: How’d you know?

DICK: ‘can’ implies it will happen again. I guessed bullying. You just confirmed it.

ELLE: Curse you and your cop/detective skills.

DICK: Do you need me to help you out?

ELLE: No.

DICK: Tim’s helping you, I hope.

ELLE: Yes.

Not really, but I couldn’t expect Tim to watch my back all the time at school. We had different classes, not to mention, he had friends that he never spent time with outside of school. He shouldn’t have to spend all of the school day with his somewhat-younger soon-to-be-adopted sister.

That reminded me …

ELLE: How old is Tim, anyway? You?

DICK: Lol.

ELLE: It’s not funny.

DICK: You spend three months living with Bruce and you just now ask our ages. ROFL.

ELLE: I never thought to ask. I can guess, but I’m probably wrong.

DICK: How old do you think I am?

ELLE: Not saying. Watch me be way off and you laugh at my stupidity.

DICK: Would I do that? :(

ELLE: Yes.

DICK: I’m 24.

ELLE: Older than I thought.

I smirked as I sent the message. I received one only moments later. I laughed.

DICK: Hey! I’m not that old!

DICK: Tim’s 17.

ELLE: And Jason?

DICK: 20

ELLE: Wait, if Tim is 17, then how come he’s a senior? I’m 17 and a junior!

DICK: He’s smarter than you. ;)

ELLE: Oh. Yeah. Duh.

DICK: Hey, I was teasing!

ELLE: But it’s true. I’m not stupid, but I’m not as smart as Tim. Makes sense now.

DICK: I feel bad now.

ELLE: Not my problem.

Dick never answered. Bored but no longer wanting to watch cartoons, I took a chance and texted Jason.

ELLE: What’s up, Red?

Jason didn’t reply. Tired of waiting, I downloaded music onto my iPod and listened to music while I read one of my new books. Dinner was at the normal time. Tim and Bruce talked about his day at school. I stayed quiet. I helped Alfred clean up afterwards, even though he tried to persuade me not to. Afterwards, I returned to my room and read some more.

I was about to fall asleep when my phone beeped, indicating a text.

JASON: I have a day job, you know.

I grinned.

ELLE: Really? Never seen you do it.

JASON: I don’t need people on my ass at work as well as at night.

ELLE: I gotcha.

JASON: What’d you want?

ELLE: Dunno. Talk?

JASON: Waste of time, if you ask me.

ELLE: I didn’t ask you, so it’s okay.

JASON: Shouldn’t you be studying?

ELLE: Did HW at school. I should be sleeping.

JASON: Then sleep.

ELLE: You woke me up.

JASON: Go back to sleep, then.

ELLE: Hey, about you teaching me to fight … when are we going to meet up now that I have school?

JASON: Skip.

ELLE: No.

JASON: Weekends.

ELLE: That’s not enough. I want to get better at fighting ASAP.

JASON: After school, then. Not that hard to figure out.

ELLE: What days do you work?

JASON: Whenever I want.

ELLE: That just proves that you either don’t have a job, or you’re doing illegal things.

JASON: Thanks for the confidence.

ELLE: Welcome! :D

JASON: I’m free tomorrow. I’ll pick you up from the library.

ELLE: ‘Kay.

JASON: Now go to sleep.

ELLE: ‘Night.

I lied in bed, smiling. Just because I wasn’t confident in myself at school didn’t mean I had to be like that all the time. My smile faded. I wasn’t looking forward to school. Not at all.


	12. Real Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Real life is catching up to Elle, much to her frustration.

ELLE

Sometimes I forget that real life still exists. That there is a world, a reality, that isn’t all about the Batfamily. Unfortunately, school has woken me up from that. But that makes me think: what is real life, anyway? What defines it? Who defined it in the first place?

Because, to me, simply living with the Batfamily and meeting up with Jason is real life enough. A few arguments, normal teenager rebellion, three meals a day. The only difference is that they’re Batman, Robin, Nightwing, and Red Hood. But why can’t that be real life? Why do I have to go back to boring school and civilization?

I suppose living the dream in a place I thought impossible has changed how I view the world. So-called real life is boring, uneventful, and something I would prefer to stay away from. Starting school yesterday only reminded me that I don’t know anybody besides the Batfamily (and Alfred). And that I am more or less on my own now. I mean, Dick works in Bludhaven, even if he does visit sporadically. And Jason … well, he’s Jason. Bruce has to keep up appearances. And Tim has friends – at least at school. 

I don’t have anyone to talk to or anything to do. Not really. I don’t want to intrude on Tim’s friendships. And besides schoolwork during the week, what else do I have to do? Tim and Bruce are gone more often than not, either patrolling or working on a case. Jason lives on the other side of town, and it’s dangerous just to walk there. I have nothing to do except work hard in school. That’s all I have. Real life has hit me.

If real life is so boring and lonely, then I don’t want any part of it.

//\\\

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 1

I was exhausted at school, but there was no way I was going to stop doing my morning exercise routine, nor was I going to go to bed any earlier than midnight. I had to suck it up. My classmates more or less ignored me, as was typical with a new kid. It was up to me to find friends, not have friends come to me. I decided not to care about friends. I didn’t need any. I had the Batfamily. That was all I needed.

I wasn’t exactly thinking that when I was called teacher’s pet once or twice in English class. Or when that one group of students tripped me in the halls. It was just that one group that didn’t like me. Or maybe it was just a way to introduce me to the school. A test, of sorts. A test that I definitely didn’t like.

I sat with Tim and his friends at lunch, but they didn’t try very hard to include me in their conversation. It didn’t matter, though. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be hanging out with any of them any time soon, anyway. Partially because I was too shy. Partially because I simply didn’t want to.

In study hall, Tim and I once again went to the library to do our homework. And, once again, he left just minutes before I had a question. Why did that always happen to me? I just didn’t understand math or science. Tomorrow, I vowed to do those homework assignments first so that I could get Tim to help me.

I almost fell asleep in art class. It wasn’t my type of class, and I wasn’t the best at it. Okay, I was absolutely horrible at it. I couldn’t even draw a simple stick figure properly.

After school, I caught Tim at his locker.

“Hey, um, I’m going to the library for a while,” I told him.

Tim raised an eyebrow as he shut his locker and turned to me. “You’re going to meet with Jason, aren’t you.”

I blushed and fiddled with my backpack strap. “Yeah.”

Frustration and concern flitted across Tim’s face for a moment before he shrugged. “Alright. Not like I can stop you.”

I smiled. “Really?” I asked, amazed that he’d give in so easily.

Tim grinned in return. “Really.”

I fought the urge to hug him, thinking it would be too weird. Dick hugging me was one thing. Me hugging Tim was another. “Thank you!” I said excitedly.

I ran out of the school and then walked to the library. Just as he’d said, Jason stood beside his motorcycle, waiting for me. As soon as he saw me, he got onto the bike. I ran up, put on my helmet, and climbed on behind him.

We went to the place where he’d taught me how to shoot a gun. I took my helmet off and looked around in confusion.

“What’re we doing?” I asked, putting my helmet down.

Jason removed his own helmet. “Weapons training. And before you ask, not guns.”

I pouted. I actually really liked shooting guns. “Well, what then?”

Jason pulled out a gym bag from some bushes. He must have hidden it there earlier, knowing that there wouldn’t be enough room on the motorcycle for it with me on it. He opened the bag. I stood over it, peering inside. I could see nunchucks, a batarang, a sai, a small knife – a boot knife, I would learn later – and a pair of escrima sticks that looked suspiciously like Nightwing’s.

“What are you, a ninja?” I asked dryly. 

Jason waved his hand at the back. “Take your pick.”

I studied the contents of the bag for a minute longer before pulling out the batarang. “Okay. So how do I use it?”

“You throw it,” Jason said.

Duh. Even I knew that. But I guess Jason wanted to see how bad I was without prior instruction. I flipped the batarang around in my hand a few times until it felt right. I took a step back and looked over at a target that Jason had set up. I took a couple of deep breaths and then threw it as hard as I could. The batarang hit the target, but it didn’t stick, instead falling to the ground.

“Good job, Cougar,” Jason commented sarcastically. I retrieved the batarang and then returned to him. “Now, try like this.” He positioned my entire stance, not just how I held the weapon. He showed me the proper way to throw it. “It’s not all about strength.”

I tried again a few more times. I managed to hit the target, but the batarang only stuck once. Tired of using the batarang, I turned back the gym bag. I quickly grew bored with the sai, injured myself with the nunchucks, and couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to use the escrima sticks. 

The boot knife was the only weapon I was actually good at using. Jason showed me how to throw it, although I preferred using it in hand-to-hand combat. I practiced that with a part of a dummy that I guessed Jason had stolen from somewhere. I learned how to stab upwards and downwards, depending on what I wanted to hit.

After some pleading, Jason allowed me to shoot his gun a few times at the targets. I was glad to see I’d improved. I could at least hit the target, even if it wasn’t in the center.

By the time we were finished, it was nearly seven thirty. Jason drove me to the library, and from there I walked back to the manor. Tim and Bruce were out, so it was just me eating at the kitchen table, plus Alfred.

Later on, I was lying in bed with my laptop, when Dick texted me. I guessed that if Bruce needed days off from being Batman, then Dick needed days off from being Nightwing.

DICK: I’m bored.

ELLE: Kay.

DICK: You should entertain me!

ELLE: Don’t feel like it.

DICK: You said you’re 17, right?

ELLE: Yeah…

DICK: So you should drive over to Bludhaven and entertain me!

ELLE: Can’t drive.

ELLE: Even if I could, I wouldn’t drive all the way to Bludhaven.

DICK: You can’t drive?

ELLE: Nope.

DICK: You have a permit at least?

ELLE: Nope.

DICK: That’s it. I’m teaching you how to drive.

ELLE: What if I don’t want to?

DICK: You have to learn sometime.

ELLE: That time is not now.

DICK: Yes it is.

DICK: Better start studying for you permit test.

ELLE: No.

DICK: I’ll be in Gotham in 3 days. I’ll take you for the test.

ELLE: …You’re not serious…

DICK: Yup!

I sighed and turned back to my laptop, which was on my nightstand. I had no choice. If Dick was going to drag me to get my learner’s permit, then I might as well get the freaking permit. I looked up what I had to know and started studying. I fell asleep an hour later.

Unfortunately, I was woken up not too much later by a really bad nightmare. My nightmares were gradually changing to include the Batfamily. And that scared me. I turned onto my side and brought my knuckles to my mouth, sobbing as flashes of the nightmare returned to my head. I stared at the wall, tears quickly soaking my sheets.

I looked up in alarm when my bedroom door opened. Tim entered my room, exhausted.

“I heard you cry out,” he said. “And your light was on, so …”

I closed my eyes and turned my head into my pillow, ashamed.

Tim sat on the edge of my bed. “Why didn’t you tell us you had nightmares?” he asked. I shrugged the best I could while lying on my side. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head and let out a sob.

“If you ever need to talk to anyone, I’m here,” he said. “And he might not look it, but so is Bruce.”

I sniffed, slowly calming down. “Sorry.” Sorry for crying, sorry for being weak, sorry for waking you up – or keeping you awake, whatever the case may be.

Tim awkwardly patted my shoulder. I appreciated the effort. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” I didn’t answer. Tim tried again to get me to talk. “We all have nightmares. I don’t think any less of you.”

I grinned weakly, opening my eyes and looking up at Tim’s concerned face. “Thanks,” I said. I sat up. “I don’t want to talk about it, but thanks.”

Tim hesitated before hugging my gently. He pulled away before I could relax.

“If you ever need anything, I’m right across the hall,” he reminded me before leaving my room. I got up and turned the light off before falling asleep for the second time. This time, I had no nightmares.

//\\\

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 4

School was school. The same group of kids teased me and pushed me around a bit, but I was quickly growing used to it. The boy I sat next to in art class helped me with my drawings so that I could actually pass the class, but other than that, I had no contact with anyone except Tim, and even that was minimal. It wasn’t his fault; he invited me to eat and hang out with his friends, but I just didn’t feel comfortable doing so. And I didn’t blame him for preferring to talk to his friends rather than to me.

Dick came to visit. Everyone was surprised; apparently, he hadn’t phoned ahead. All he did was wink at me and say, “I did say three days.” I only glared at him half-heartedly in response.

Dick drove me to the DMV. I’d studied the best I could, but it was difficult. There was so much to remember. Honestly, I didn’t feel confident at all. I was pretty sure I was going to fail the permit test.

After four hours of waiting, a quick eye test, and the actual permit test, I received my learner’s permit. I very nearly didn’t get it. I was one question away from failing it. Dick took me to McDonald’s and got me an ice cream to celebrate.

“I’m so proud of you,” Dick repeated for the billionth time. He wouldn’t leave me alone, even after we’d returned to the manor. “I can’t wait to teach you how to drive.”

I sighed. “How can you teach me how to drive if you live in Bludhaven?” I asked dryly.

The truth was, I didn’t trust Dick to teach me how to drive. He wasn’t the best driver. And I was so worried that if I messed up, he would be disappointed in me or would hold it over my head forever as blackmail.

Dick pouted. “I’ll figure something out.”

I spotted Alfred coming towards us. “Hey, Alfred?” I asked. “Can you teach me how to drive?” I trusted him a lot more. He was a safer driver, would (hopefully) be a good teacher, and would (hopefully) be more encouraging than teasing.

Dick turned to me with fake hurt on his face. “Hey, that was supposed to be my job.”

“If I may say, Master Richard, I don’t blame Miss Elle at all for not trusting you to teach her how to drive,” Alfred teased in that way he does. “Your driving is atrocious at best.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” Dick said sarcastically. He grinned over at me. “You better get driving, then.”

“He didn’t agree to anything,” I tried to stall. I really didn’t want to learn how to drive. It was a lot of effort, not to mention, it wasn’t like I actually had to drive anywhere. I preferred walking when Alfred wasn’t driving me.

“I would be happy to assist in your driving lessons, Miss Elle,” Alfred told me.

I spent an hour learning how to drive around. It was awful. I stopped too early at stop signs and pressed the gas too hard to get going so that the car lurched forward. I was a very choppy driver and found it difficult to stay on the right side of the road. And the speed limits …

Real life was certainly catching up with me. A little too fast.


	13. Living the Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A classmate asks Elle out on a date.

ELLE

What does ‘living the dream’ mean, anyway? From what I know, it’s supposed to refer to the American Dream: family, money, property, job, freedom. That’s what I think a lot of people believe the saying means.

But this is the 21st century. Not everyone wants a family. Most people don’t own their own property because they don’t have the money. Money is hard to come by. The well-paying jobs are the most difficult to get into. And freedom depends on the person you ask.

For some, freedom means you can do whatever you want, as long as it’s legal. For others, they really only care about religious freedom or freedom of speech. Maybe it’s the freedom to own yourself instead of someone else controlling your motions.

In my mind, freedom is the first thing that I listed. I think that I should be able to do whatever I want, with very few restrictions. I think that bending the rules is okay – speeding on a road where no one else is driving, killing someone because they killed first – as long as it doesn’t get out of hand. My morals might be a bit twisted, but I don’t exactly see the world as black and white, so it’s okay if my definition of freedom is in the gray area.

I don’t have that freedom right now, and I probably never will. I live in Wayne Manor, after all. Bruce hates guns. Alfred is very strict with his teaching me how to drive. No one in the family – except Jason – sees the gray and uses it to their advantage. Jason does, but he’s not exactly seen as a hero.

So, back to living the dream. I don’t have freedom, as I define it. I guess you can argue that I have money – Bruce’s money – but it isn’t the same. I sort of have a family with the Bats, but I don’t have my family. I don’t own property – but Bruce does. I don’t have a job, but that doesn’t really count, seeing as I’m still in high school.

Note how most of the things I have are due to Bruce. I don’t like that. I want to create a name for myself, not just take what is Bruce’s.

In a way, I’m living the dream.

But I’m not living my dream.

//\\\

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 10

School hadn’t gotten any better. I was barely passing my math, science, and art classes. The only reason I didn’t have a failing grade in art was because of the boy who sat beside me. I’d learned that his name was Nico. He helped me in class just enough so that I wouldn’t fail. I really appreciated it.

This art class was different, though. Nico and I were doing sculpting, as per the teacher instructed, and he was helping me to smooth the edges out. The room was quickly growing louder as students had to shout over each other to hear their conversations.

It was when no one was paying attention and no one could hear us that Nico turned to me. “Elle, I, uh, will you go out with me sometime?”

I was so startled that I pinched the clay too hard. I blushed deep red. I avoided looking at Nico, overwhelmingly shy, but excited at the same time. I couldn’t stop the wide smile on my face, nor could I stop my hands from shaking.

“U-um,” I stuttered, biting my lip. I glanced over at Nico. He looked nervous, even while hiding behind a confident attitude. Did I want to go on a date with him? I barely knew him. I mean, he was nice and he helped me in class, but a date? An actual date?

I shook away my nervous thoughts. It was just one date. That was all. My first date ever. And Nico seemed nice. “Yeah,” I said, my voice quiet. I cleared my throat and lifted my head to meet Nico’s gaze. “Yeah. Okay.”

Nico let out a breath. I pretended not to notice. I found it really cute how he was so nervous. Around me. About me. No one had ever been nervous because of me. It felt nice, actually.

“Great,” Nico said, grinning. I still couldn’t wipe the smile of my face. “Tomorrow okay? At five?”

Without thinking, I nodded. “Sure. That sounds good.”

“I’ll pick you up then?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want Bruce to know. Not to mention, did Nico even know that Bruce was adopting me? I worried for a minute that he only wanted me to get money, but it was just one date. I wasn’t signing my life over.

“We can meet somewhere,” I said.

“You know where Mel’s Diner is?”

I nodded. I’d eaten there before, with Bruce and Tim. The bell rang. Nico helped me clean up the clay and tools. I was a bit irritated – I could have cleaned up on my own – but at the same time, it was sweet. Maybe I just needed to let someone help me, instead of always needing to be in control at all times.

“So, five?” I asked one more time before we parted ways.

Nico smiled. “Five it is.”

We stood around awkwardly for another three seconds before we both separated. I couldn’t stop smiling all the way to my locker. I had butterflies in my stomach, but they were the good kind of butterflies. My hands still shook as I gathered my books.

I decided not to tell anyone else about Nico. Knowing the Batfamily, they would become way too overprotective. And, as I’d wanted to be for a while, I needed to be more independent. This was a good step in that direction.

Out in the parking lot, I was surprised to see Jason waiting for me. I glanced over at where Alfred was parked and Tim was putting his backpack in the trunk. I had another split-second decision to make. This one was all too easy. I walked over to Jason.

“Elle!” Tim called over to me, seeing who I was with.

I shrugged apologetically at him and climbed onto the motorcycle.

“Don’t worry, Replacement, I’ll have her home for dinner,” Jason called over to Tim. I giggled and held on to Jason as we raced off before Tim could get another word in.

“So what’s with picking me up from school?” I asked when we were at a stop light.

“Faster,” Jason said simply.

We had met up four times since the first weapons practice, the only times I wasn’t learning how to drive with Alfred or Jason wasn’t busy. I’d discovered how much I really, really enjoyed using both pistols and boot knives. Jason then began teaching me maneuvers that incorporated those weapons.

Today was more practice with those maneuvers. I really enjoyed these meetings with Jason. A part of me hoped that the rest of the Batfamily would never see how advanced I’d become. I mean, I was still very much a beginner, but I wasn’t new to fighting anymore. 

I was skilled with dodging, agility, reaction timing, and hand-eye coordination. It was when a move required strength that I had the most difficulty. I was only five foot four and, despite the number of push-ups I was able to do now, I was still not very strong.

But, while sparring with Jason at the end of our practice, it hit me. I wanted to fight crime. I wanted to use my new skills – however poor they were – to help Gotham. I wanted to be one of the vigilantes that the media reported about. I wanted to save innocent lives.

And, more importantly, I wanted to have a bit of fun.

Fighting was fun for me. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was only the thought of fighting crime, but I still thought it was fun. I was already learning moves from Jason. Why couldn’t I become someone like him? I was all for an eye for an eye. I didn’t care what I had to do, as long as criminals were off the streets – dead or in jail, I didn’t care.

The thought plagued me the rest of the afternoon and evening, even when I had returned to the manor. And then it turned into excitement. I wanted to do it. I really, truly wanted to. If Dick could become Robin at, what, eight years old? Then why couldn’t I become … someone at seventeen?

//\\\

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 11

I was all too excited for five o’ clock. I couldn’t pay attention in any of my classes. Tim noticed my good mood, but I shrugged it off as having a good night of sleep. Since Tim knew about my nightmares, now, he believed me. I mean, I hadn’t been this happy and excited since I learned the Batfamily was real and was going to adopt me.

In art class, Nico continued to help me with my project. He let his fingers rest on my for a few seconds too long, making me blush. I couldn’t stop smiling or glancing over at him. Or blushing. Luckily, my hands didn’t shake as much as they had yesterday.

“Five o’ clock,” Nico reminded me with a grin after class.

I nodded, biting my lip. I shifted my feet nervously. “Oh, um, right, I …” I found a sharpie and wrote my cell phone number on a corner of a piece of paper. I handed it to him. “Th-that’s my number,” I said, even though it didn’t need explaining. Nico raised his eyebrows teasingly. “S-sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Nico reassured me. His expression turned sheepish. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m a little nervous, too.”

I let out a small laugh. “So, see you later.”

We parted. Back at the manor, I rushed to my room and tried to find the perfect outfit. I usually didn’t care at all what I wore, but I wanted to impress him. He was the first person who had ever asked me out. I didn’t want to screw it up because I wore the wrong outfit.

I finally decided on white-washed boot-legged jeans, a green fitted shirt, a black sweater – it was September, after all – and brown lace-up boots. I brushed my hair, for the first time wishing I had a hair curler, or whatever those things were called. Also for the first time, I wished I had makeup. I never wore any, but now would be a good time to start doing so.

At four-fifteen, I grabbed my purse and started to leave. I’d rather be really early than late. But then I thought of something. I ran to Bruce’s study and knocked. I entered hesitantly.

“Hey, Bruce?” I asked carefully. Never had I asked him for anything before. “Can I borrow some money?”

Bruce looked up at me. He observed my outfit. I hoped it wasn’t obvious that I’d tried very hard to look nice. “Going somewhere?” he questioned.

I didn’t want to reveal that I had a date, so I used the next best thing as my excuse. “I’m meeting up with Jason. Just to hang out,” I added quickly at Bruce’s stern stare. “No sparring or anything. We’re getting McDonald’s, and he’s tired of always paying, so …” Please, please work.

Bruce studied me for a moment before pulling out his wallet. He handed me two twenties. “Eat something better than McDonald’s,” he told me. “And be careful.”

“Jason’s not that bad,” I half-whined, but not wanting Bruce to change his mind about the money, I added, “Thanks for the money. I’ll pay you back eventually.”

Bruce grinned a bit. “No need.”

I hesitated another minute before finally leaving the room.

I hurried through the streets, all too aware that I was, once again, alone with a purse when it was beginning to get dark. Stupid autumn.

I went to a store and bought makeup. A little bit of everything. I didn’t know what I should use, or what I would use, so I bought eyeliner, mascara, lip gloss, and cover-up. Plain black eyeliner and mascara. A pinky-red lip gloss. I also bought pepper spray, which would definitely make me feel a lot safer walking around Gotham.

I headed into the bathroom of the store and carefully applied the makeup, just copying how girls did it in the movies or in the school restrooms. It took some time, but I finally managed to look okay. I used cover-up to hide the dark circles under my eyes; for once, I hated being a night person, always having nightmares, and still getting up early.

I took a breath and exited the store and headed to Mel’s Diner. Nico stood waiting outside. I smiled.

“Sorry,” I said, thinking I’d made him wait. 

“Don’t be,” Nico said, holding the door open for me.

The date was amazing. We laughed and joked while eating. I actually had a good time. We shared a slice of cake, and then I persuaded him to let me pay for half of the bill, which actually wasn’t bad. We went to a movie afterward. He bought the tickets and I bought the popcorn and soda, even though we’d already eaten.

I learned that he was seventeen and lived on his own because of some family problems, so he got emancipated. He didn’t own a car, but was saving up for one. He worked at a deli during the summer and four or five days a week during the school year.

He was nice. That was the biggest thing.

He held my hand as he walked me to the library – I’d told him that I could walk the rest of the way from there. I did tell him that I was being adopted by Bruce Wayne, just in case he didn’t know. He’d only laughed and said he didn’t care. He cared about how sweet and kind I was. And he also understood that I wanted to keep our relationship secret from my soon-to-be adopted family.

At the library, we stood awkwardly, making awkward small talk for a few minutes. When it was silent, I was just about to leave, when Nico leaned over and kissed me. I was surprised and didn’t respond. Nico pulled away apologetically.

“Sorry,” he said. “If you’re not ready to kiss, then …”

I shook my head, laughing slightly. I brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, blushing. “That was my first kiss,” I admitted quietly.

Nico nodded. “Well, generally, you’re supposed to kiss back.”

I bit my lip. Boldly, shaking away my shyness and insecurity, I leaned forward. “Like this?” I whispered. I pressed my lips to his carefully. It was awkward and I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, but we did sort of get the hang of it.

Afterwards, we both laughed.

“Just needs some practice,” Nico said, brushing a hand through his hair.

I grinned. “So we’ll be doing that again?” I asked hopefully.

“Same time next week?”

I agreed and then headed back to Wayne Manor. I couldn’t stop smiling. Luckily, I didn’t pass anyone in the halls, so I didn’t have to answer any awkward questions.

In my room, collapsed onto my bed and brought a hand to my lips. My first kiss. My first date. My first … could I call him my boyfriend? Maybe not yet.

And, hopefully, I would soon have my first night out as a vigilante.

But only if Jason agreed.


	14. Life Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle's happy days with her boyfriend are limited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: domestic violence

ELLE

Life is all about learning. You never stop learning, even if you think you do. And I’m not talking about school, because let’s face it; no one really learns much there. You learn what you like, but only memorize everything else. Exams are all about memorizing the unit, not about learning. Unless, of course, you actually did learn. But what’s the probability that you’re going to remember how to find ‘z’ using an algebraic formula in ten years, even five, unless you’re going into math or engineering or whatever you need to know that formula for?

No, I’m talking about learning important facts of life. Like that you have to make mistakes in order to know not to do them again. Because you know what not to do, you’ve learned. If you accidentally burned your hand on a hot pan when you were five, well, I doubt you’ve burned your hand since then. If you were distracted and started crossing the street without looking and almost got run over, then I’m sure you always look both ways now.

Throughout your childhood and teenaged years, you learned how to socialize better, haven’t you? You’ve learned how to act around sarcastic people, around rude people, around nice people, around people of all types. You’ve learned which people you can’t joke with and which ones encourage a joke or two.

As you grow up, you learn that the world isn’t as safe as your parents always told you it was. You learn about murder and rape and kidnapping and pedophiles and so much more. And because you realize that, hey, those things happen, you start keeping a better eye on your surroundings when you’re alone, maybe have a weapon on you, or maybe you always travel in a group.

You learn as you grow. You learn every day. You keep tripping on a bump in the sidewalk? Eventually you’re going to step over it. You say something out of line in the heat of an argument? Now you know not to say it again.

You’re constantly learning. The question is, will you acknowledge what you’ve learned and use life’s lessons to your advantage?

//\\\

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 15

Nico and I had been dating for a little over a month. He was so sweet. I’d gone over to his apartment a couple of times. We went on a bunch of dates. It was amazing.

I still met up with Jason on the days I wasn’t with Nico. I still thought about becoming a vigilante, too, but I hadn’t brought it up. I’d improved a lot of my maneuvers and, although not often, managed to send Jason to the ground in a sparring match.

Tim and Bruce were working hard on a case. About what, I didn’t know. They’d been working on it for a little over a week, now. I didn’t know anything about it, but I knew that they were getting stressed out very quickly.

Dick kept pestering me about how my driving lessons were going (they were … going. Slowly). When he wasn’t doing that, he was asking about how school was. I appreciated that he was concerned about bullies, but I didn’t like how overprotective he was. Needless to say, I didn’t mention anything about the bullying.

School wasn’t bad. It wasn’t great, either. My art grade had raised a lot. Math and science were still low, but they were passing. English was my favorite subject. I had a high grade in that class. The same group of students still teased me a bit. They called me names, still, and they continued to trip me in the hallways. Nothing I couldn’t handle.

Today, Nico and I went to the mall, just to hang out. We went to the stores he liked. I was disappointed and a bit frustrated that he wouldn’t let me go to any of the places I liked to shop in. But when some of Nico’s friends came over and Nico started to ignore me, I took the opportunity to speak up.

“Hey, I’m just going over to that store, okay?” I pointed over to the shop that had music and DVDs.

“But, babe,” I fought back a scowl at the nickname he’d come up for me. I hated pet names like that. “I thought we were going to the food court?”

Nico’s friends watched us. One of them started checking me out. I shifted uncomfortably. “We are. But I thought you’d like to talk with your friends and I’ll go look at the music.”

“I’m hungry,” Nico said. “Let’s just go to the food court, okay?” He bade his friends goodbye and basically started dragging me by my hand.

“Ow, Nico, you’re hurting me,” I told him.

He spun around. I flinched at the furious look in his eyes. “Shut up,” he hissed. “Just shut up.” He took a breath. “Let’s just go eat.”

We picked up some food and then left the mall, eating as we walked. Nico didn’t even talk to me until we were in a secluded area. Then he glared at me.

“Why’d you do that?” he demanded.

I blinked, completely lost. “Do what?”

“You made me look like an idiot in front of my friends!” he exclaimed. He threw away the remainder of his food.

I bit back my annoyance. “No, I didn’t,” I told him as calmly as I could. “I just wanted to go shopping at one of the places I liked.”

Nico knocked the rest of my food to the ground. I took a step back in surprise. He’d never acted like this before.

“And then Kyle was checking you out!” he roared. I took another step away.

“How is that my fault?” I demanded.

“Your clothes,” Nico told me through gritted teeth. “What, are you trying to get other guys to look at you?”

“What? No!” I protested.

“I can’t stand it when other people look at you!” Nico shouted. He grabbed my arm tightly. I yelped in surprise and pain. “Why do you have to dress like that?”

“I can wear what I want!” I shouted back.

Nico slapped my face with his free hand. I would have fallen to the ground if he wasn’t still holding my arm. I was shocked into silence. What had just happened? I ripped my arm away from Nico. I knelt on the ground and pressed a hand to my tender cheek, crying silently. Should I break up with Nico? Should I run? Should I tell someone?

Immediately after seeing what he’d done, though, Nico’s face turned apologetic. “I’m so sorry,” he said to me. He helped me stand up. I let him hold my hand. All of my instincts told me to run. But this was Nico. He was just having a bad day. Everyone had those. “I just got angry. And a bit jealous.”

A grinned weakly through my tears and pain. “A bit?”

Nico pulled me into a hug. “I love you,” he said into my hair. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

I pulled back slightly and looked him in the eye. He looked so sad and distraught over what he’d done. It was just a one-time deal. I leaned forward and kissed him gently.

“I forgive you,” I murmured against his lips.

Nico dropped me off at the library. I used one of their bathrooms to put cover-up over the red mark on my face. Nico hadn’t hit me hard enough to bruise. It would be a bit difficult to explain the slight swelling, though.

I headed down to Jason’s apartment. We did a bit of sparring before I had to leave. The entire time, I thought about … becoming his Robin. That was the only thing I could think of. Jason had wanted Tim to be his Robin at one point, hadn’t he? Maybe that offer was still open. Maybe he would let me be his Robin instead. As I was leaving, I mustered up the courage to ask.

I bit my lip. “Hey, Jason?” I asked tentatively. Jason looked at me, waiting for me to go on. I took a breath. “Do you … Do you still need a Robin?”

Jason eyed me. After a minute, he said, “No.”

I nodded in disappointment and made to head back to the manor. I should have known.

“But I need a Cougar,” Jason told me.

I grinned widely, unable to believe it. I turned back to Jason. “You serious?”

Jason rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was amused by my excitement. “Am I ever not serious?”

“Thank –”

“But,” Jason interrupted. My grin faded. There was a ‘but.’ That wasn’t good. “You need more training before you do anything. Capisce?”

I nodded. That was fair. And understandable. “Capisce.”

I was so excited. I knew there was no way I could ever tell Bruce, Tim, Dick, or Alfred because they had a different view on fighting crime. And I couldn’t tell Nico because that would put him danger. But those were the logical sides of me thinking. A large part of me also enjoyed the fact that I would have a secret that was all mine, excluding Jason.

I sat at the dinner table, alone. “Where is everyone?” I asked Alfred.

“Master Bruce and Master Tim are at their night job, Miss Elle,” he told me. “They send their apologies that they cannot make it to supper.”

I nodded in disappointment. This case must be really important if they weren’t here for dinner. Again. I had to remind myself that soon, I would be out there, too. Even if I had different morals.

“Can you tell me what the big case is, at least?” I half pleaded half-heartedly, knowing the answer already.

“You know the rules,” Alfred said. “Master Bruce was quite clear in his orders to not let you know of anything that has to do with his night job.”

“I don’t understand why not,” I mumbled into my plate. “I already know he’s Batman.”

“It is for your own protection,” Alfred told me firmly. I knew better than to argue. I ate the rest of my meal in silence.

Afterwards, I wandered the halls of the building aimlessly. Alfred didn’t let me help do the dishes, so I was left on my own in the big, empty house. I didn’t want to go back to my room, the number one place I spent my time in.

I sat in the living room, flipping through the television channels. I was lonely and bored. And then I received a text. I smiled.

NICO: Come over for dinner tomorrow?

ELLE: I don’t want Bruce to get suspicious.

NICO: Please?

ELLE: Okay. Six?

NICO: Six-thirty.

ELLE: It’s a date. Love you :)

NICO: Love you too.

I deleted the texts, not willing to take any chances. If anyone found out we were dating, Nico would constantly have a Bat following him. Or I would. Or both.

That would be one easy step to losing your boyfriend.

Exhausted, I headed up to my room. I tore a piece of paper from a notebook and lazily doodled mask designs. 

I hoped Jason didn’t expect me to wear spandex.


	15. Love Life, Be Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle spends some more time with Nico.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, domestic violence

ELLE

Because you only exist once – not live; exist – you need to do your best to love your all-too-brief existence. You can’t complain for all eighty-something years of your life about the things you don’t have or the things you haven’t done. That’s a waste of time, a waste of existence.

You have to love what you have, enjoy what you’ve done. You have a family? Love them, love it, embrace the fact that you have a family at all. You went travelling? Love every place you’ve been to, love the experience, enjoy it, remember it. You live alone in a crap apartment with three cats? Love the fact that you have a place to live, love your pets, love how you’re still existing.

Love what life has offered, or rather, what life has given you. Don’t turn it away or complain about it or turn it into something bad. Love that you’ve been given a chance to prove yourself, to prove that you are able to continue existing no matter how much or how little you have.

But you have to be brave in order to be able to do that. If life makes you lose your job, then you have to be brave enough to look for another one. You can’t let yourself fall apart. You can’t give up. If life gives you your first child, then you have to be brave enough to raise it. You can’t let yourself have any doubts. You have to give your child your all, no matter how scared you are.

You have to be brave enough to make decisions, and be brave enough to follow through with them. And then you have to love the fact that life has given you the chance to do something different, to prove yourself worthy of existence.

//\\\

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 16

I walked with Tim from the parking lot to the school property. My face was sore, but there was no swelling or redness. I had put on a bit of cover-up, just in case. Tim looked exhausted, blinking wearily at his surroundings.

“Long night?” I asked.

Tim nodded. He yawned. “We just can’t get this guy,” he told me. Before I could try to get any details about the case, he asked, “Where were you yesterday at lunch? I meant to ask but I haven’t seen you.”

I shrugged. “I made a friend,” I replied vaguely. He wouldn’t get overprotective over a friend. At least, I hoped not.

“Anyone I know?” Tim looked over at me.

“Probably not.”

The first bell rang. We went our separate ways to our lockers. Nico was waiting at mine. I smiled. Knowing that Tim’s locker wasn’t anywhere near mine, I leaned up and kissed him.

“Good morning,” I said, getting what I needed from my locker. Nico leaned against the wall.

“Let me walk you to class?” he asked. I nodded and shut my locker. We kissed lightly in front of my history class.

“See you at lunch,” I said.

As I passed my classmates on the way to my seat, I heard a girl cough under her breath, “Slut.”

I paused, but ignored her. Halfway through class, a balled-up piece of notebook paper appeared on my desk. I looked in the general direction it was thrown from. One of the boys was half-smirking while pretending to pay attention to the lecture. I opened up the paper.

How much for one night?

I crumpled up the ball. On the way out of class, I tossed it into the recycling bin. I ignored the snickers of my peers. I didn’t understand. I knew that almost everyone in my grade knew Nico and I were in a relationship, but why were they calling me a slut? What was the joke?

It happened my next few classes, too. I was called a slut and a whore. I had to leave gym early because I couldn’t handle it any longer. I ran to the girls’ locker room and cried. I was so in tune to my thoughts – why now? Why me? – that I didn’t realize that someone was beside me.

“I’m sorry for what everyone’s been saying to you,” the girl said. She seemed really sincere, too. I wiped my eyes. “But about Nico –”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, suddenly angry. It wasn’t fair. I was trying to be more independent, and instead, I cried like a wimp, ran like a coward. I glared at the girl. I vaguely recognized her as the one who had beckoned me over to her in the library on my first day of school – Jasmine, I thought her name was – but really didn’t care. “Just leave me alone.” I changed into my uniform quickly.

“But there’s something you should –”

“I don’t care!” I yelled, still crying, this time tears of frustration and anger. I wiped at my face before leaving. The girl didn’t follow me.

I went the cafeteria and got my lunch as soon as the bell rang. I sat at my and Nico’s usual table – I chuckled bitterly to myself when I realized that Tim hadn’t asked about my seating arrangement until that morning. Nico and I had been sitting together for a while now. I wondered just how much Tim missed.

I shook my head. That wasn’t fair. Tim was tired and busy. And he had his own friends. It was no wonder he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did but he just kept forgetting to ask. It wasn’t that hard to forget something as simple as me switching tables when you have a criminal case or something on your mind.

“Hey, babe,” Nico said, sitting next to me.

“Hey, you,” I replied.

We talked during the lunch period. He walked me to chemistry, wished me good luck on my test – which I knew I was going to fail – and went to his own class.

In chemistry, I once again heard all the mean things my classmates were saying about me. Was it a rumor? Or did they not know Nico and I were dating until recently? I didn’t think that was true. Gossip spread like a wildfire throughout the grade. Hopefully, it wouldn’t reach Tim.

The rest of the day, I looked forward to my after-school sparring session with Jason, and then my dinner-date with Nico after that.

Jason picked me up from school again. And, once again, we just sparred. Only this time, Jason was a lot harder on me than he’d been previously. When I made a mistake, he was quicker to point it out and tough on me until I got it perfect. 

I understood why, even though it was painful and nearly brought me to frustrated tears. Now that I was going to become the partner of Red Hood, I had to be stronger and better. Just an all-around amazing fighter, really. It wasn’t about the fun and the game of fighting and learning anymore. It was about winning and making sure I didn’t die.

When I’d returned to the manor, I immediately showered and changed into more casual clothing. I put on makeup and then headed back downstairs. I knew that Bruce, Alfred, and Tim wouldn’t be very happy if I was out late again, but I didn’t care. I snuck out without any of them noticing – but that was only because they were all in the Batcave. Hopefully, they hadn’t even noticed I’d returned. That way, they could just assume I was still with Jason.

I finally arrived at Nico’s apartment, right at six-thirty. He let me in with a smile and a kiss. I could smell something cooking in the kitchen.

“Smells good,” I told him.

“I hope so,” Nico said.

He served spaghetti and homemade meatballs. Needless to say, I was impressed that he made the meatballs from scratch. We had a good time eating our meal.

“Let me help clean up,” I said, standing. Nico protested, but I ignored him. I cleaned up our plates and reached for the pan with the remaining meatballs in it. The pan was cool, having sat so long in the air. I turned with the pan in my hands.

“Where are your Tupperware –” I gasped in surprise when I bumped into Nico. I hadn’t heard him come up behind me. The sauce from the pan splashed onto Nico’s and my shirts, plus the floor.

“Look at what you did!” Nico yelled. I flinched back. He looked at his shirt. “This is going to stain,” he complained. “And look at the floor!” He took a dish towel and threw it onto the floor. I stepped away, unconsciously gripping the pan a little tighter. “Why are you so stupid?”

“I’m not stupid,” I muttered. I sighed. “Look, it was an accident. I’ll clean it up.”

“You better,” Nico growled. I hated the rage in his eyes.

I bit my lip. “Do you have any Tupperware dishes?” I asked softly, holding the pan up and hoping to diffuse the situation.

“Forget about the fucking Tupperware!” Nico shouted, ripping the pan from my grasp and throwing it to the floor. I flinched as it shattered. What had I done wrong?

“I was just trying to help,” I said weakly.

Nico punched my arm, which was already sore from sparring with Jason. I yelped. Nico pushed me to the floor. I very nearly cut my hands on the glass. I felt myself start to cry against my will. No, I had to be strong! I will not be weak! I could handle this! Nico was just mad. I would be, too. It was my fault for not being more careful.

“Clean this up,” Nico demanded. It took me a while, seeing as I didn’t want to cut my hands, but I managed to pick up the glass and clean the spill on the floor.

Afterwards, I went up to Nico. “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“You’re so stupid,” Nico snapped at me. He pushed me into the wall. “You have to watch what you’re doing! And now this shirt is ruined!”

I couldn’t take this anymore. I didn’t know what to do. So I grabbed my purse and left. Nico didn’t follow.

It was nearly nine o’ clock, so hopefully, Tim and Bruce would be out working the case. Either way, I painfully made my way into my room through the window. In the bathroom, I examined the bruises on my arms.

It was a good thing it was October, or else people would see them.

I didn’t know what I should do next. I mean, it wasn’t Nico’s fault he got mad. And so what if he had a short temper? A part of me wanted to break up with him, but that wasn’t fair. I was the one who’d been stupid enough to spill sauce on everything.

My cell phone beeped. A new text.

NICO: God, I’m so, so sorry. I love you and I know I got a little mad but please, please give me another chance. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to hurt you or yell at you.

My fingers paused over the keys. It took me a minute before I knew what to reply with. I didn’t want to set him off again.

ELLE: I forgive you. Everybody gets mad sometimes, and it was my fault. I still love you.

NICO: You want to meet up tomorrow? I promise it’ll be better than today.

ELLE: Sure.

NICO: I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then. Love you!

ELLE: Love you, too :)

//\\\

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 17

“Where’s Tim?” I asked, noticing his absence. Had he slept in?

“He’s out with his friends,” Bruce replied, eating his breakfast.

I bit my lip. “I’m going out to hang with some friends, too,” I said. Bruce looked at me inquisitively. “Hey, I have friends!” Well, a boyfriend, but still.

“Do you need money?” Bruce asked.

I sighed. “I’d rather not take your money. Not when I can’t pay you back yet.” I’d get a job eventually. Maybe during winter break.

“You’re a part of this family now,” Bruce said sternly, handing over twenty dollars. “It’s your money, too.” No, it really wasn’t, but I appreciated the effort he was going to make me feel better.

Nico texted me and told me where to meet him. We spent a few hours at the arcade and then headed over to the park. Nico went over to a hot dog stand while I saved us a seat at a bench.

“Elle?” I looked over sharply. Tim. Crap. “What’re you doing here?” His confused look turned suspicious. “You’re not with Jason, are you?”

I leapt at the excuse. “Yes, I am, actually,” I said, eager for Tim to leave. I saw his friends waiting for him. “You should go back to whatever you were doing.”

“You could join us,” Tim offered.

I shook my head. I saw Nico watching me out of the corner of my eye. “No thanks. Just … doing my own thing is fine.”

Tim hesitated before going back to his friends.

Nico came over to the bench and shoved a hotdog into my hand. I ate quickly, starving.

“Who was that?” Nico asked.

I furrowed my brow. I thought everyone knew who Tim was. “Tim. You know, Tim Drake?” Was it possible that Nico truly didn’t know that Bruce had adopted Tim? But if the entire city knew that I was being adopted, then shouldn’t the entire city know that Tim was adopted already?

“I want you to stop talking to him,” Nico told me. I choked on my hotdog.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t want you talking to him,” Nico rumbled. “I’ve seen you two talking at school, and now you’re talking outside of school –”

“He’s my adopted brother,” I said, astonished.

Nico grabbed my arm tightly. “I said, stop talking to him!” he shouted. A few passersby stared but they all moved on. More quietly, but still angry, Nico said, “You will stop talking to him.” I winced when the grip on my arm grew tighter.

“Okay,” I said, just wanting the pain to stop, just wanting Nico to be happy again. I hadn’t meant to make him jealous. I was a horrible girlfriend.

Later in the day, Tim and I somehow crossed paths again. This time, I ignored him. Nico was watching, and besides, Tim should have fun with his friends, not be talking to me. I was nothing special.

“Go away,” I told Tim, growing frustrated with his talking, growing worried that Nico would get mad.

Tim gaped at me. “What?”

“You heard me,” I snapped. I walked away. Tim called my name, but I heard his friends tell him to leave me be. Thank God for that.

Nico only gripped my wrist a little tightly. It was nowhere near as bad as before. I took that as a sign that I’d satisfied him.

But I felt guilty, though, about brushing off Tim. When I got back to Wayne Manor, I avoided Tim at all costs. He tried talking to me multiple times.

“Did I do something wrong?” Tim asked through my locked door. The first time I’d ever locked the door. “Elle, if I did something, just tell me.”

I ignored him until he finally had to leave for Robin duty. I cried silently into my pillow. I didn’t want to stop talking to Tim, but I wanted Nico to be happy again.

My phone beeped. Thinking it was Nico, I immediately grabbed it. It was from Dick, though.

DICK: You and Tim have a fight?

ELLE: Is that any of your business?

DICK: I’m just worried. Tim sounded upset when he called me.

ELLE: Oh, well.

DICK: This isn’t like you at all. What’s wrong? Why are you mad at Tim?

That was the thing. I wasn’t mad at him. I was mad at myself. Nico was right. I was stupid.

DICK: You can talk to me.

DICK: Come on, I just want to help.

DICK: What’s wrong?

ELLE: Nothing’s wrong. It’s none of your business, anyway, so shut up and leave me the hell alone.

Dick didn’t respond after that. I hoped he got the message.

Now feeling even guiltier, because I lashed out at Dick, I cried even harder.

I had the worst nightmare yet that night.


	16. Way of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle does her best to please Nico by pushing away everyone else.

ELLE

Everyone lives in a certain way. Whether or not they realize this is different. For instance, there are different categories of wealthy people. There are the wealthy people who show off their money, the people who hide their money, the people who give away their money like it’s nothing, the people who keep all their money to themselves, it goes on and on and on.

It’s not completely about money – in fact, it rarely ever focuses on that one aspect. A person’s life is compiled of several little factors meshed together. Money, family, job, personality, etc. Using my wealthy person example, said person could be a family man with a good job and is caring of the environment. Of course, a wealthy person could also be an old cat lady who inherited the money from her parents, but she is cruel and refuses to give any of her money to the public.

Different people live differently. It’s that simple.

But it’s not permanent if you don’t want it to be. A homeless person could get his life back in order if he truly wanted to, just as a wealthy person could give away most of his money until he was part of the middle class. But it’s more than money and a job. You have to be able to change your own personality, which is very near impossible. You have to work at it, over and over. It doesn’t just change overnight.

I’ve tried to become more independent and confident, but the way I lived for most of my life – shy, insecure, more or less obedient – still controls most of my actions. It’s not voluntary, most of the time. I have to fight myself to try to change how I live. Step one was learning how to fight with Jason. As soon as I start going out as a vigilante, I’m hoping that I’ll change my way of life even further.

I don’t want to be stuck a certain way forever.

//\\\

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 18

I hid in my room. I didn’t even bother going for a run. I was so ashamed that I ignored Tim. I couldn’t face him. And if he’d told Dick, then he’d probably told Alfred and Bruce. I didn’t want to be interrogated at breakfast, so I didn’t go. Alfred came up and knocked on my door, but I feigned sleep. It wasn’t as if he could see that I was awake, and the door was locked.

I took my shower later than usual. There were bruises on my arms. Not too many. They hurt, though. I pretended it was just the water falling down my face, not tears. I wasn’t crying. I wasn’t going to cry because I’d made Nico mad, probably made Tim mad, too. Tim was upset last night, well, he was probably angry at me now that he’d had time to think.

I put on my clothes – including a sweater to hide the bruises; I didn’t own any long-sleeve shirts – and curled up on my bed. I wanted to apologize to Tim, but that would mean I’d have to talk to him. Nico would find out and I didn’t want him mad at me. I wasn’t scared of Nico. I just wanted him to be proud of me, to be happy and sweet and nice like he’d been before.

“Elle, open up.” I winced at Bruce’s dark voice. He wasn’t happy. The doorknob jiggled. “Elle, unlock this door. Now.”

I didn’t move. Maybe he would leave. Maybe he would give up. I just stayed sitting on my bed, knees drawn up to my chest.

“Elle, open this door, or I’ll break it down,” Bruce demanded.

I had a feeling he wasn’t bluffing.

I crawled out of bed and unlocked the door. Bruce heard the lock click and opened the door himself. I didn’t bother to stay standing. I went back to my bed and went back to my previous position. I didn’t want to talk. I was ashamed. What must Bruce think of me? 

I tugged on the sleeves of my sweater. All the more reason to hide the bruises. He would think I was weak and a coward. And then go after Nico. I couldn’t let Nico get hurt. It wasn’t his fault. It was mine.

“What’s going on between you and Tim?” Bruce asked. I winced at the tone in his voice. There was no escape for me. I had to think of something to tell him. Something that was plausible.

“I’m just having a bad week,” I said vaguely. Thinking about the bullying, it wasn’t a lie. My mind flashed to Nico hitting me. No, stop, that was an accident!

“And you’re taking it out on Tim,” Bruce stated rather than questioned.

I felt my cheeks redden. “Sorry,” I murmured into my knees.

Bruce put a hand on my shoulder. I flinched away. I froze immediately after doing so. Please, Bruce, don’t look into that. Bruce removed his hand. Cautiously, I looked up at him. His expression was blank, but I was pretty sure he was confused. I hoped he wasn’t analyzing me.

“Sorry,” I whispered pathetically. “It’s …” Think of something, think! “It’s that time of month.” Actually, that was last week, but still. “I’m having trouble controlling my emotions.” Please buy it.

Luckily, Bruce was just like every other male on the planet when it came to girls and their menstrual cycles. His face reddened the slightest bit and his expression turned to one of awkward understanding.

“Oh. Okay.” I giggled at seeing Bruce lost for words. He collected his thoughts and then tried again. “You should apologize to Tim.”

I couldn’t. I’d do my best to push it off. “I will later,” I promised. I wished. I hoped. I hoped not. “I’m not feeling too good right now and I don’t want to say something stupid.” Too late, too late, too late.

Bruce nodded, seemingly accepting my answer. “Talk to him before the end of the day,” he ordered. He was at the door when he called back, “Alfred saved you some breakfast. You should eat.”

But then I’d have to leave my room, maybe cross paths with Tim. “Cramps,” I pulled the excuse again. “I really can’t eat anything right now.”

Bruce left before I could say anything else. I chuckled to myself. Batman or not, Bruce was still uncomfortable when it came to ‘female needs.’ I closed and locked my door behind him, though, in case Tim decided to take the opportunity to get into my room.

I received a text from Nico. I released a breath, glad it wasn’t Dick.

NICO: Late lunch? 3:00?

ELLE: Sounds like a plan.

NICO: Mel’s Diner okay?

ELLE: It’s perfect.

“Elle, will you please tell me what’s wrong?”

I spun around. Tim stood next to my window. Angry at myself that I’d forgotten about the window, I glared at Tim. I had to make him hate me. I had to make him not want to talk to me. If he didn’t want to talk to me, then ignoring him and pleasing Nico will be so much easier.

“Leave,” I growled, ignoring the guilt. For Nico, I reminded myself. I wanted Nico to be happy again. I had to be the one to do it. And he told me to stop talking to Tim. I had to listen to him.

Tim took a couple of steps forward. I stood up, putting the bed between us. “What did I do?” Tim asked. I had to ignore the hurt on his face. I had to. For Nico.

“Nothing,” I spat, frustrated. Why couldn’t he just leave? Why did he have to make this so difficult?

My phone beeped in my hand. I looked at the text quickly.

NICO: Love you.

Tim watched me. “Who are you texting?” he asked.

“A friend,” I replied as lightly as I could. Please, Tim, don’t be all smart-detective-y right now. I wanted Nico and I to be a secret. I wanted Nico to be happy.

ELLE: Love you too :)

“You have friends?” Tim asked incredulously, watching me text.

“Is it really that surprising?” I snapped.

“I’ve never seen you with them,” Tim said carefully.

“Because who I talk to isn’t any of your business,” I replied sharply.

“I just want to know what’s going on,” Tim said, frustrated.

“I’m going out,” I said, not willing to listen any longer. I grabbed my purse and made for the door.

“Wait a minute,” Tim said. He grabbed my shoulder. I whipped around and backed away a couple of steps, eyes wide. After realizing what I’d done, I wanted to smack myself. This was Tim. Tim wouldn’t hurt me. But now he was watching my moves warily. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell what.

“Don’t do that!” I exclaimed, trying to calm my racing heart.

“Why are you so jumpy?” Tim spoke slowly, carefully.

“I don’t like being caught off guard,” I said the first thing that came to mind. “Especially not since living in Gotham.” Please buy it.

Tim nodded, but I could tell he didn’t accept my excuse. “You’ve never done that before.” His eyes narrowed. “Did something happen?”

“No,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “Just-just leave me alone.” I hurried out the door and out of Wayne Manor.

I was starving, but I still had a few hours until it was time for my date with Nico. I spent my time in a couple of shops and the library. Anywhere I wasn’t alone. At three, I met up with Nico, my stomach growling and my head light. I really should have eaten something.

We ate lunch and then went window-shopping. In other words, we just walked the streets of Gotham and pretended to find things in windows interesting. Although one particular necklace did catch my eye. I kept staring at it so that I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. I tripped on something and nearly pushed Nico to the ground. Nico gripped my arms tightly.

“You’re such a klutz,” Nico sneered at me. I flinched. He pushed me to the ground. “Watch where you’re going.” No one seemed to notice what had happened. Or maybe they did and they agreed with Nico. It would make sense. I was too stupid to watch where I was going, after all.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

Nico’s hard expression softened. “No, I’m sorry, babe,” he said, extending a hand towards me. I flinched and raised an arm up involuntarily in defense. Seeing he was just trying to help me up, I grabbed his hand and stood. Nico kissed me. “You just make me mad sometimes,” he explained. I understood. Everyone gets mad at some point. “You just need to be more careful.”

“I’ll get better,” I promised. We kissed again. Nico looked at the necklace I’d been eying. A few minutes later, he’d bought it for me and I was wearing it instead of my Batman one.

“I love you,” he told me. I smiled and hugged him.

“I love you, too.”

He dropped me off at the library, reminded me to not talk to Tim, then gave me a kiss goodbye. I walked up to Wayne Manor, pulling on my sweatshirt sleeves.

“Where have you been?” Bruce asked when he saw me.

“With friends,” I replied. I left him alone. He didn’t follow me.

“Elle, please just talk to me,” Tim said, waiting in front of my bedroom door. How he’d known I’d returned was beyond me.

Remembering Nico’s instructions not to speak to Tim, I pushed past him. Tim didn’t let me slam the door in his face.

“You’re acting different. It’s not just me, either. What’s going on?” Tim pleaded. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

I didn’t want to speak, in case I said something else stupid, so I went over to my bed and lied down. Tim tried for twenty more minutes to get me to talk, but when I refused to even look at him, he gave up and left.

DICK: What’s going on?

I ignored my phone as soon as I saw it was Dick. I didn’t want to do anything stupid. I didn’t want to accidentally reveal I had a boyfriend. I had to make Nico happy. He was usually so sweet. I didn’t need overprotective guys watching my every move, either.

DICK: Talk to me.

DICK: Did something happen?

Dick gave up after thirty minutes. I stayed in my room, not able to face anyone. I was hungry, but I could handle it.

NICO: Sorry about today.

ELLE: I forgive you.

NICO: Just try to be better, okay?

ELLE: Okay.

NICO: See you in class, babe.

ELLE: Love you.

Nico didn’t reply.


	17. Lies of the Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico drags Elle to a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, domestic violence

ELLE

Everyone lies, for one reason or another. To get farther in life, I suppose. It’s sad, really, if you think about it. You can never know what is a lie and what isn’t anymore.

Some people lie about big things so they can rise up to the top: of high school (popularity), of a job (owner of a business), etc. They do it in a way so that they can be seen in a certain light. They want to be looked up to, to be doted upon, to be viewed as perfect or as who someone wants to be like. They lie for all the wrong reasons, so how is it that they usually end up getting what they want?

Also selfishly, some people lie so they can portray themselves in a certain way. Depending on the reasoning, they want to be seen as brave and noble, or quiet and mousey, or outgoing and friendly. The unconfident one wants to be seen as outgoing and brave. The cunning mastermind wants to be seen as shy and timid. These people lie to manipulate others, and perhaps to try to change themselves in the process.

The opposite is, of course, lying to protect others. Lying to protect loved ones from the truth, or lying to protect the perpetrator of a crime. It’s perhaps a little selfish, but in the end, these people lie with good intentions at heart, at least in their minds.

And, lastly, there are the little white lies, which usually end up not being so little after you start weaving your little web. One small lie turns into two, turns into four, turns into eight, and on and on until you can’t even see what the truth is anymore. White lies can be selfish or not, but these are the ones that are the most dangerous of them all. For after you get lost in your own web, you might never come out again.

No matter what the reason is, lying is just a game, really. Survival of the fittest. And sometimes, to survive, you have to do anything you can to win. Lying is both a strength and a weakness because of this. It’s a strength because you know that you have to kill – figuratively, hopefully – in order to win. In order to survive. You have to lie in order to get there. But it’s a weakness because you have to resort to lying in the first place. It’s a weakness because lies and who you’ve told them to – including to yourself – get lost until you can’t remember when you said what and to whom.

I’ve always hated lying beyond white lies. I’d lie about if I was happy or sad – but so others wouldn’t be hurt or ask why. I’ve lied about why I go for runs – so that Dick and Tim don’t feel bad. In essence, I usually lie for the sake of others.

That’s why I have to lie about the bruises. I have to protect Nico, even if I have to hide it – lie about it, really – to everyone else.

//\\\

MONDAY, OCTOBER 19

I didn’t bother to pay attention in class. I didn’t care about what was being taught. Besides, Nico was texting me.

NICO: Class is such a bore.

ELLE: Agreed.

NICO: There’s a party after school.

ELLE: Okay…?

NICO: Meet you at the library?

ELLE: I don’t want to go.

NICO: Please?

ELLE: Parties aren’t really my thing.

NICO: Well, they’re my thing, so let’s just go.

ELLE: I’d rather not. You go ahead.

NICO: C’mon. It’ll be fun. There will be alcohol.

ELLE: Part of the reason I don’t want to go.

NICO: Why are you so whiny? It’s just one party.

ELLE: You can go without me. Besides, it’s a school night.

NICO: Goody-two-shoes.

ELLE: There’s nothing wrong with that.

NICO: Except that you’re so fucking whiny about going to one fucking party.

ELLE: I don’t want to go.

NICO: You’re going. Don’t be stupid.

We argued about the party for a couple more classes. I gave up at lunch and agreed to meet up with him at the library at 6:00. The problem was that I now had to sneak out of the manor. Again. I hoped that Bruce didn’t put up cameras or something. After all, I’d gotten into the habit of sneaking out. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least.

It was a little more difficult than usual to get away from the manor today. Alfred took me out for more driving lessons, and then I had to pretend to be sick so I didn’t have to stay for dinner. After all, if I stayed, I’d be late to the party – which I still didn’t want to go to, but Nico did. And he was right; I was just being whiny.

In the end, though, I did manage to sneak out. Nico and I arrived at the party around 6:30. I bit my lip as I looked around.

“I don’t like this,” I said to him. “Can we just go?”

Nico tightened his grip on my waist. I stiffened in pain. He bent down and hissed in my ear, “Don’t you dare embarrass me.” In a normal voice, he said, “Now let’s go have some fun.”

Nico dragged me over – almost literally – to his friends. He talked with them. One of them – Kyle, I remembered Nico name a while ago – ogled me. Nico noticed and pulled me tightly into his side, his grip on my waist even tighter.

Someone offered alcohol to our little group – or rather, Nico’s group with me there. They all took some. Nico forced me to take a cup. He glared at me when I hesitated to drink it. I took a small breath and drank a small sip. After all, I wouldn’t get drunk off of just a little bit. And it wasn’t like I was driving anywhere. I wrinkled my nose at the taste and smell. Why did people like this?

Throughout the night, that was how it went. Some dancing, but mostly Nico talking to his friends with my attached to his side. As I grew more and more bored and frustrated and anxious about being at the party – I didn’t know any of these people – I found myself drinking more and more beer. There might have been some other alcoholic beverage served, but I was no expert. I just took some and tried to look like I belonged there.

I knew that I was drunk, but a part of me liked it. It was helping me get through the party. And Nico liked how I was trying to fit in, I could tell. So I excused myself and went over to where the drinks were. I was getting his approval, at least somewhat.

“Hey, Elle, right?”

I turned to see Jasmine standing there. I just nodded to her question. I hadn’t spoken all night and wasn’t sure how slurred or stupid I would sound.

“I just wanted to warn you,” she continued. “Nico is bad news.”

“You said that before,” I slurred. “You’re wrong.”

“I used to date him,” Jasmine told me. Jealously and rage curled in my stomach. “He’s abusive. He’s hitting you, too, isn’t he? Or if he hasn’t, he will.”

He’d hit me, but it wasn’t abuse. Not really. It was only sometimes. It didn’t count. “You’re just jealous that I’m dating him now,” I accused.

“I’m trying to help you,” she countered.

“Nico is an amazing boyfriend,” I declared. “Amazing. Maybe they –” I gestured at the entire room and was surprised to find myself nearly fall over “should be calling you the slut. Not me. Not. Me!” Before I realized what I was doing, I poured my beer – or whatever it was this time – onto Jasmine’s shirt. I felt surprisingly satisfied by doing so. “Stay away from my boyfriend.”

I stumbled back over to Nico. People were beginning to either pass out on the floor or leave. Nico grabbed my arm and dragged me outside.

“Where’re we goin’?” I whined-slash-demanded. “Library’s that way.” I pointed in the opposite direction.

“My place,” Nico said. He pulled my arm harder. I tripped. Nico nearly pulled my arm out of its socket keeping me up.

“But why?” I complained. “Don’ wanna go to your place.”

Nico spun and faced me, drunken fury on his face. “Because I said so, bitch. You do as I say.”

I stayed quiet, except to giggle from time to time for no reason. Bipolar drunk, maybe?

It was midnight by the time we got to Nico’s apartment. While Nico was in the restroom, I decided to call Bruce or someone from Wayne Manor to let them know where I was. I must have pressed the wrong button because it was Jason’s voice I heard.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” he snapped.

I giggled. “You sleepin’? Thought you never slept. Gots better stuff to do.”

“Cougar? What the hell are you doing calling in the middle of the night? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

I collapsed onto the sofa. “I was trying to call Brucie, but I called you instead.”

When Jason spoke next, he sounded more alert. And maybe a touch worried. But I was probably mistaken. I wasn’t exactly in my right mind. “Kid, are you drunk?” A pause. “Where are you? Do you need a ride? Or at least an escort? Damn it, if you get hurt because of this, Bruce will have my head.”

“Aww, you’re worried about me! That’s so sweet.”

“Elle, where are you?” Jason sounded so serious that I burst into laughter. It was the first time, like, ever he’d used my name, too! “Damn it, just answer the question.”

My laughter died down to giggles, and then the giggles turned into sobs. I was surprised that I was crying. Wow, I really was a bipolar drunk. Or just a crazy-ass emotional one. Angry to silly to sad. How did that even work?

“I’m with someone,” I said quietly, sniffing. “Don’t worry. I’m with someone.”

“With who?” Jason demanded. “I want to know who I can pin this on if you get alcohol poisoning or something.”

I shrugged, forgetting that the man couldn’t see it. “Just someone. You don’t know. Nobody knows. Not Bruce. Not Tim. Not Dick. Not Alfred. Not you. Nobody knows.” Why did I start crying harder? “Nobody knows. Everyone sees but nobody knows.”

“Elle?” Jason asked, trying to sound tough but he still came across as uncertain. “What’re you talking about? Who are you with?”

And just like that, my mood changed from sad to mad in seconds. Again. “Nobody knows. Nobody fucking knows!” I raised my voice. “Why don’t they ask? Why doesn’t anybody know? They can fucking see it!” My anger turned to worn-out laughter. “Nobody knows,” I said. “Nobody, nobody, nobody.” I giggled. I was somewhat aware that I sounded insane. “They see but they don’t know.”

“Quit it,” Jason growled, but he sounded scared. Oh. I’d forgotten he was on the phone. “You sound like … like …”

“The Joker!” I proclaimed loudly, giggling, tears still streaming down my face. “He so crazy that he’s evil and a genius. So fun to be crazy.” I went back to sobbing helplessly. “I wish I could be like that. Crazy is funner than …” I hiccupped.

“Where are you?” Jason asked, sounding a bit desperate, but that was most likely my drunken and tired mind playing tricks on me. Where was Nico? “Elle, talk to me. Where the fuck are you? Who are you with?”

“Not the Joker,” I slurred. “He’d be fun. But I’m stuck with hate. And anger. Not fun. Not even when he’s happy.”

I saw Nico exit the bathroom. Oh, was he listening in? Oops. Maybe I should just go to sleep.

“I gots to go,” I said.

“Kid –”

I hung up before Jason could get another word out.

Nico stalked towards me. I couldn’t help but flinch away.

“You.” He punched my stomach. I cried out. I scrambled to get away but only managed to fall onto the floor. “Stupid.” He kicked my side. “Bitch.” Another kick, this one to my back when I tried to crawl away. “Who the hell were you talking to?” Punch. Hit. Slap. Kick. Kick. Kick. “Well?!”

“A friend!” I stammered through the pain.

“It was a guy!” Nico yelled. More punches and kicks and slaps followed. I cried out with each one. “Who the fuck was it? Was it Kyle? Was it, you slut? Whore!” Punches. Kicks. Slaps.

“Stop!” I begged, sobbing. “He’s just a friend! I love you!”

Another kick. One more punch. A bruising kiss.

“Why did you make me do that?” Nico asked harshly. He gripped my arms tightly. “I love you. I don’t want to hurt you. Why’d you make me do that?”

Another bruising kiss.

A choked sob sprang from my throat.

“I forgive you,” I told him, because it was true. It was an accident. He was drunk. I should have known better.

“I know you do,” Nico said.

He left me, sobbing, on the floor.


	18. Double Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason confronts Elle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: language

ELLE

Everyone lives, at the very least, a double life, even if they don’t realize it. After all, it’s probably not likely that you act the exact same way you do at home as you do at school or at work. You adapt your personality and your behavior so that it blends in with your surroundings, or perhaps so that it meets someone else’s expectations.

At home, you’re probably expected to be respectful to your parents and any siblings you may have. You might have some rebellious streaks here and there, but in the end, you obey to avoid punishment. At school, you might swear a bit more than you do at home, or perhaps voice your more snarky comments.

Of course, you might not. But it’s highly likely that you do, in some fashion, live a double life.

For people like Bruce Wayne, it’s more obvious – if you know who he is at night, that is. One life, he’s a rich playboy – in public, that is. Otherwise, he’s a bit gruffer, more serious, perhaps overprotective of innocents. 

And then there’s me. I’m a different person around Jason – a bit more sarcastic, maybe a bit more violent – than I am around the residents of Wayne Manor – quiet, more or less obedient. With Nico, I have to be submissive so that he’s happy. Because that’s one thing that doesn’t change about me, no matter which life I’m living. I want others to be happy. I want others to be proud of me.

//\\\

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 20

I woke up to a pounding headache. I realized with a start that I was still lying on the floor. I was covered in bruises. It was painful to move even the slightest bit. Vomit was beside me and on me. It had been luck that I’d been curled up on my side. I shut my eyes against the stupid sunlight. How much did I drink last night?

I managed to make my way to the kitchen, where Nico was also hung-over. He handed me aspirin and a glass of water. I took them graciously. We didn’t talk about last night.

There was no way I was going to school that day, and neither was Nico. Nico wanted to crash and sleep off the hangover but I wanted to get some long-sleeve shirts to cover up the bruises. Nico was in a good mood and gave me his jacket to wear while walking to the store; he stayed behind and, assumedly, slept the day away.

I checked my phone. I had a bunch of messages and missed calls from Dick, Bruce, Tim, even Jason. I sent out a mass text, simply saying that I was okay. I immediately got replies from all of them.

DICK: Where are you? Everyone’s worried about you. What happened?

I ignored his text. I didn’t feel like getting interrogated.

BRUCE: We’ll talk about this later.

By ‘this,’ I assumed Bruce meant the whole sneaking out thing. I wasn’t looking forward to that.

JASON: What the fuck was last night about?

I remembered calling him, but I couldn’t remember exactly what I’d said. Oh, well. Not worth getting into a conversation about.

TIM: Are you skipping?

I bit my lip. I hesitantly typed out a reply, despite knowing Nico wouldn’t like it.

ELLE: Yes. So?

TIM: You sure you’re okay?

ELLE: Yes.

TIM: Where are you? Are we good now?

I stopped replying. Shouldn’t Tim be paying attention in class? Although I was a being a hypocrite, I just couldn’t imagine Tim texting during class.

I checked my purse. I had some money left over from when Bruce last gave some to me. I used it to buy McDonalds and then I headed over to the store. I took my time, window-shopping on the way. After all, I was wearing Nico’s jacket, so it wasn’t as if anyone could see the bruises. Also, the sun wasn’t exactly helping my hangover.

I finally made it to the store. I took my time, looking at every little thing even though I knew exactly what I’d come for. By the time I’d picked out a couple of long-sleeved shirts that I could afford, school was out. And, of course, I just happened to bump into Jasmine.

“Hey,” she said to me. I turned and started walking away. If she didn’t have anything nice to say about my boyfriend, then she could just leave me alone. Unfortunately, my attitude didn’t deter her. She ran and caught up to me. “No, you have to listen to me.”

“Why?” I snapped. “Because you want your boyfriend back?”

Jasmine frowned, concern and annoyance in her eyes. “No. Because I want to help you. Get out of that relationship.”

“Or what?” 

“Or … or I’ll call the police,” Jasmine stammered. I rolled my eyes.

“No you won’t,” I said. “Because then he might get mad. And we both know what happens when he gets mad.” I added the last part quietly, but Jasmine still heard me.

“You think you love him. I get it. I really do.” Jasmine looked me in the eye. I found it hard to look away. “But it’s not okay. Please, please just leave him before it gets worse.”

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I didn’t know what to do. So I did what I did best. I stormed off. Jasmine didn’t follow this time.

I didn’t want to go back to the Wayne Manor, nor did I want to go back to Nico’s apartment. So I went to the only other place there was. Jason’s apartment. Luckily, he was there. And he was not happy.

“Answer your fucking texts!” was the first thing shouted at me when I entered using the spare key. I winced at the volume.

“Can you please not,” I pleaded quietly, placing my bag of shirts and my purse aside.

“What? Yell?” Jason only shouted louder. “No. I think I’ll yell even louder because your stupid-ass hung-over mind deserves the pain! Where the fuck were you!”

I flinched when he called me stupid. Yet another person said that about me. It was definitely true, though. It had to stop hurting sometime.

“With a friend,” I said.

“I knew that,” Jason said, annoyed. “But who?” I shrugged. Jason sighed angrily. I tensed involuntarily. No, I had to calm down. He wasn’t going to hurt me. “Whose jacket is that?” Jason demanded. “It’s not yours.”

I shuffled my feet anxiously. “No one’s. It’s no one’s.” A bad lie and we both knew it.

“No. You don’t get to say that.” Jason pointed an accusing finger at me. I flinched again, my heartbeat increasing speed. I tried to calm myself down. Jason used to train with Bruce. He probably saw every little thing I did. He could probably see how anxious and scared and angry I was with every move. I had to be careful.

“First, you drunk-dial me in the middle of the night and start spewing some random shit.”

My stomach twisted. This wasn’t good.

“Then you show up here, wearing some guy’s jacket.”

That could be explained away, I told myself pitifully. Easily. Maybe.

“And you keep flinching like I’m going to hit you –” Jason trailed off. His rage turned into understanding but disbelief. “Like I’m going to hit you,” he repeated lowly, angrily.

“You’re overreacting,” I said pathetically. “It’s just the hangover.”

Jason nodded slowly. “Maybe.”

And then he took a few angry steps towards me, fury on his face, hand raised. I reacted on instinct, backed up against the wall, shaking, eyes shut, putting my arms in front of my face and bending over slightly to protect my stomach.

When no hit came, I slowly opened my eyes and straightened up. But I did not relax in the slightest. I was ready to run.

Jason looked furious, but it looked like he was covering up horror. I swallowed thickly.

“Who is it,” Jason growled quietly. 

I shook my head. “I don’t –”

“Tell me who the fucker is!” Jason shouted. I flinched. Again.

“No one!” I cried.

Jason snatched one of my arms. Terrified, I tried to rip my arm away. Jason didn’t let me. He pulled down my sleeve, revealing the bruises. His eyes narrowed.

“Is it a boyfriend?” he asked. “It has to be because that jacket isn’t the Pretender’s style at all. It’s not Dick’s, either.” He didn’t mention Bruce. But he didn’t have to.

“Yes,” I admitted quietly, barely above a whisper.

Jason let go of my arm. “Who is he? Who is he so that I can kill his sorry ass!”

I shrugged again. I wouldn’t say anything. I’d already said too much. I hoped Nico didn’t hear about this, or else he’d get mad. Why was I so stupid?

Jason huffed. “Break up with that son of a bitch,” he ordered me. I winced, still shaking.

“Why?” I asked.

Bad question. “Why? Are you seriously asking me that?” Jason paced the room, still talking. “How long has he been hitting you so that you don’t even realize how stupid you sound.” He stopped pacing and shook his head. “‘Why.’ Why would you break up with the fucker who’s abusing you.” I winced at the term. It wasn’t abuse. It wasn’t. Nico loved me. “Hmm … I wonder why!”

“He loves me,” I murmured, lowering my gaze.

Jason stared at me incredulously. “Are you shitting me?” He walked back over to me. “Kid, abuse is abuse. It’s not okay, no matter what anyone says, especially your so-called boyfriend.”

“You don’t know him,” I argued quietly, starting to cry. “And you can’t tell me what to do.”

“But he can?”

“He loves me,” I repeated through the tears. I grabbed my purse and my bag. I left the apartment. Jason didn’t follow. A part of me wished that someone would follow me whenever I stormed off. A part of me was glad. A part of me just wanted to curl up and bawl my eyes out. So that was what I planned to do.

Bruce met me right outside the manor. “We have to talk about what happened,” he told me in his Batman voice.

I shouldered past him, still upset. I just wanted to go to my room. And maybe pass out. I hadn’t had anything to eat beside McDonald’s around 11-ish, and the aspirin had long since worn off.

“Elle,” Bruce cut me off before I could get to the stairs. When he saw my tired and tear-stained face, he faltered. When he spoke next, he was more Bruce Wayne, adopted father of three-almost-four, than Batman, the dark knight. “First, you snuck out of the house. Then, Tim tells me you skipped school. And I got a call from the school saying that your grades are slipping and that you’re not paying attention in class.” I refused to meet his eye. “If something is going on, you can tell me.”

I shrugged. “It’s nothing,” I lied.

Bruce didn’t believe me but let it go. Why oh why did everyone let it go? Why did I want them to know? Why did I care? “Okay, but if you need to talk to someone …”

I nodded and shot a weak smile at him. I hurried up to my room. Painfully.

And cried.

It seemed that I did that a lot lately.


	19. Living and Dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle tries to please Nico.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, domestic violence

ELLE

You can live and die at the same time, I’ve learned. Or, I suppose the correct term would be, exist and die. I’m not happy. I don’t do anything I enjoy anymore. But I have to make Nico feel better. He needs to be happy, which is more important. I’ve always cared more about the feelings of others than those of myself, anyway.

I’m not living anymore. Not really. I don’t even know when I stopped living and started just plain existing. I do everything for Nico and nothing for myself. But maybe that’s not a bad thing. It’s a part of growing up, isn’t it? Caring for and about others before yourself? It’s not wrong to think that. Right?

And I’m dying at the same time. Figuratively, of course. Because I do everything for Nico. Because I don’t even care about my needs anymore. As long as he’s happy. As long as he doesn’t hurt me. We’ll be okay. We’ll get through this.

But the fact still stands that I’m both dead and alive. I’m breathing, going through each day, but for Nico. Only for Nico. I do what he wants now. A part of me is mad. A part of me hates him, hates myself, for how I submit to his will so easily. But the larger part of me tells me that we love each other. This is what couples do for each other. I have to keep him happy. It’s my job as his girlfriend. And he cares about me. He just gets mad, like everyone else.

It’s confusing and conflicting. My emotions, my thoughts, everything pulls me in different directions. I should get out of this relationship, my thoughts scream, but my heart tells me that this is normal. I have to prove my love to Nico by keeping him happy. And to keep him happy, I have to do what he says.

The part that wants to break up with him is weakening. It’s the part that wants me to tell Bruce, to run back to Jason, to call the police, anything except stay with Nico. The part that loves Nico is strengthening. That’s the part that wants us to get through this, that wants me to stay with him, that attaches me to him. The part that keeps my mouth shut and the bruises hidden.

I don’t know what to do. So I do what I know best. Keep quiet and obey.

//\\\

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 21

Jason texted me all night. I didn’t text back. He even tried calling, as if I was more likely to pick up the phone than type out a response. Needless to say, I silenced my phone. I was worried and maybe a bit terrified that he would go to extreme measures to get me to break up with Nico, such as telling Bruce or even showing up at Wayne Manor.

I should really know him better than that, though.

I woke up to more nightmares. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to text Nico.

ELLE: You awake?

It took him a minute to respond.

NICO: What do you want you stupid bitch? I’m trying to sleep.

I pushed back the hurt and tears. He had a right to be angry, I reminded myself. I woke him up.

ELLE: I had a nightmare.

That was the first time I told someone. Tim had caught me wake up from a nightmare. That had been different. This had taken me a lot of courage to text.

NICO: So go cry about it.

Instead, I started crying over his words. Why was I even crying? They were just words. It was just Nico.

NICO: Come over to my place later.

ELLE: We have school.

NICO: So skip. Not that hard to figure out. You really are stupid.

ELLE: I skipped yesterday. I can’t skip today.

NICO: So you care more about school than your boyfriend?

ELLE: No! I love you!

NICO: Come over to my house.

ELLE: I will in a couple of hours.

He never responded. I wiped away my tears and did push-ups and sit-ups to the best of my ability. Unfortunately, I was in a lot of pain from my bruises, so I couldn’t do too many. I showered and changed and then headed down to breakfast, where I ignored both Tim and Bruce. I even ignored Alfred.

I made up the excuse that I had to go get make-up work from the school and left. I was surprised they let me leave. But they seemed to do that a lot. Just let me leave. Why did they never make me stay?

NICO: Where are you?

ELLE: On my way to your place.

NICO: Hurry up I’m hungry.

ELLE: So make yourself breakfast. I already ate.

NICO: You’re making me breakfast.

ELLE: Okay.

It was easier to agree. When I got to Nico’s apartment, he gestured towards the kitchen, expecting me to make him food. I made scrambled eggs and toast, hoping he’d be happy with it. He was satisfied, which was better than angry. Anything was better than angry.

Jason tried to text me a few more times. After a few glares from Nico and a couple of smacks, I turned my cell phone off. We watched movies that he enjoyed but I didn’t, plus I made him lunch. The day wasn’t bad. And then it turned around again.

“Clean this up,” Nico said, gesturing to the plates surrounding us. It was around dinnertime, but we hadn’t eaten yet.

“Can you clean up?” I asked quietly. Nico glared at me. I flinched. My breathing picked up. But I managed to finish my thought. “I’ll make dinner.”

Nico smacked me. I fell off the couch and onto the floor. I yelped when I hit my wrist wrong.

“You don’t give the orders here,” Nico hissed, hitting me again.

“I’m sorry!” I cried out. Nico only continued to hit and kick me. “Please stop!”

“You want me to stop?” Nico shouted, adding a couple more punches for good measure. “Then do your fucking job right!”

I sobbed and nodded. Nico kicked my stomach.

“Answer me when I speak to you!” he yelled. “And stop crying! You’re such a fucking baby!”

I tried to calm down but was unable to. I cried hysterically. “I’ll clean up!” I pleaded. “And make dinner! Just please stop! I love you!”

Nico kicked me one more time. He picked up a glass plate and slammed it onto the floor next to my head. I flinched away, closing my eyes to avoid them getting injured. Luckily, the glass didn’t go flying, but Nico kicked me towards the pieces. I cut my shoulder and my arm on the glass the way I turned. I cried out in pain.

“Now get to work!” Nico shouted. He left to his bedroom and slammed the door. 

Still sobbing hysterically, I carefully picked up the glass, accidentally cutting my hand a bit in doing so. I ignored the pain from the cuts the best I could. I cleaned up the dishes and started dinner. While waiting for the food to cook, I cleaned out the cuts on my hand, arm, and shoulder the best I could. I hoped they wouldn’t get infected, but I didn’t know exactly what to do with the cuts. They weren’t deep, which I knew was lucky, but still.

Dinner was spent with Nico glaring at me and talking about how useless I was while I ate quietly. I cleaned up afterwards, Nico hit me just because he could, I put cover-up on, and then I left.

I turned my phone back on. Once again, I had lots of missed calls and texts. The latest ones were from Tim.

TIM: Bruce isn’t happy. And honestly, I’m not too thrilled either. You skipped school again and we have no idea where you are.

I sniffed back my tears and snuck into my room in Wayne Manor. I supposed that Bruce and Tim were out that night because neither of them came to interrogate me.

//\\\

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22

I avoided everyone like the plague. I left my room barely in time to get a ride to school. Tim tried to talk to me but I ignored him. Alfred didn’t even try.

After a few classes of being pushed around came gym. I changed clothes in one of the bathroom stalls and wore one of my sweaters. No bruises could be seen. Out on the track, Jasmine kept pace with me. I was thankful she didn’t speak. It felt … kind of nice, actually, to have someone to run with, even if she did annoy me.

But it was too good to be true. Jasmine kept me back as everyone else headed inside at the end of class. I stiffened, prepared for another lecture.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Jasmine told me.

“Why do you even care?” I demanded, glaring at her. It wasn’t any of her business.

“I told you. I’ve been there.”

She’d been hit.

But I wasn’t her. I was strong enough to deal with it. So I told her so.

“Yeah, well, so what if he hits me?” I looked away and shrugged, scowl on my face. “It’s not that bad. I can handle it.” Unlike you, I added mentally.

Jasmine stared at me, determined. “You think it’s not bad, but it really is.” She sighed. “Look, I’m not the bad guy. I’m just trying to help.”

We were silent for a few minutes. We went back inside and changed. When it was just the two of us in the locker room, a thought suddenly occurred to me.

“You can’t tell anyone,” I said, begged, pleaded. “Especially not the cops.” It would ruin everything. And Nico would be mad. Angrier than ever.

Jasmine hesitated before finally relenting. “Fine.” She wrote down a phone number on a piece of scrap paper and handed it to me. “In case you need someone to talk to.”

I nodded, planning on throwing it out as soon as she had her back turned. “Thanks,” I said as nicely as I could. It might have come out a little bitter, but Jasmine didn’t seem to care. She headed off to her next class. I headed to lunch.

I almost threw out the piece of paper, but I couldn’t make my fingers let go. I bit my lip before stuffing it into my purse. It wasn’t as if I would ever use it.

At lunch, Nico and I hung out in the art room instead. We weren’t supposed to leave the cafeteria, but it was too crowded. Also, I had a feeling that Nico didn’t like the fact that Tim had the same lunch as us. Secretly, I was glad we spent lunch in the art room. He teased me and I teased back like we did when we’d first started dating. He even gave me a teddy bear as an apology for yesterday. I disliked bears, but I forgave him anyway.

Later, I would fall asleep with the bear by my side.


	20. Hanging Onto Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle can't hide her secret much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, domestic violence, attempted rape

ELLE

I’ve changed so much that I don’t even know who I am anymore. I am so conflicted about what to do. So I stick with keeping Nico happy. But I’m dying, and a part of me wishes I was dead. I’m barely hanging onto life.

I have to be better for Nico. I know this. But I don’t understand why he hurts me. He doesn’t mean it. I’m sure of that. But I’m losing my will to fight. Why can’t I just use what Jason has taught me? Why can’t I be brave and strong and determined enough to fight back? I can’t do it, though. And I just don’t understand why.

A part of me wants to slip away, give full control of my life to Nico. I’m practically there already. Yet I don’t want to be dead. I don’t want him to control me. And so I barely hang onto life.

But do I really even care anymore?

//\\\

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 23

I skipped breakfast and my morning run again. I ignored Tim on the car ride to school and avoided him all day. In the hallway, I walked up to Jasmine. I couldn’t stop myself from doing so. I wanted to avoid her, too – she knew too much – but maybe that was also what drew me to her.

“Hey, um,” I cleared my throat. Jasmine looked over at me in surprise and shut her locker, giving her full attention to me. “I just wanted to, uh, say sorry. For everything. I’m not usually like that.” Rude, ignorant, angry, bitchy, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Jasmine smiled gently. “It changes you,” she said quietly. “You know it. You’ve noticed it. So why don’t you ask for help?”

I fiddled with the end of my long-sleeved shirt nervously. “I don’t know,” I told her honestly. “I just don’t know.”

“What are you ladies talking about?” Nico asked cheerfully. Too cheerfully. I swallowed. He stared at me, smile on his face, but his eyes were hard and angry. I backed against the lockers.

Jasmine glared at Nico. “None of your business,” she spat. Her glare faltered when Nico turned to her, smile gone in a second. She took a step away.

“Oh, really?” Nico continued with his charade. There were other students in the hall, after all. “I’ll just leave, then.” He turned to me. “Coming, babe?”

Jasmine shook her head at me. I clutched my purse strap. I nodded jerkily and put a weak smile on my face. I was in trouble. So, so stupid. Why was I so fucking stupid? “Of course.”

“You don’t have to,” Jasmine said to me. Her expression pleaded with me not to go. She knew what was going to happen, too.

I shrugged, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. “See ya, Jasmine.”

Nico squeezed my hand – the hand that I’d cut glass on – tightly as he led me to an empty classroom in an empty hallway where no one could hear us unless we shouted. I had to fight not to cry out or flinch, but tears filled my eyes. How pathetic was that.

“What did you tell her?” Nico spun around, happy façade gone, replaced by fury. I didn’t answer. Nico stepped closer to me. I flinched and tried to step away, but Nico gripped my arms tightly. I bit my lip to stop myself from yelping. “What. Did. You. Tell. Her.”

“N-nothing,” I stammered. The pressure on my arms increased. “I-I swear!”

“Don’t lie to me.” Nico pushed me to the ground. I grunted in an attempt to prevent a louder sound from escaping my lips. Nico knelt on top of my and gripped my throat. I gasped. “Now. Try again.”

“I didn’t tell her anything!” I gasped out with difficulty. Nico applied more pressure to my throat. I couldn’t breathe. Oh, God, I couldn’t breathe I couldn’t breathe I couldn’t fucking breathe!

He finally let go of my throat, leaving me gasping for air and coughing. He stood up.

“Don’t ever speak to her again. You hear me?” Nico pulled my arm sharply to get me to a standing position. He leaned in close to my face. “Don’t even look at her.”

I nodded hastily. “Okay. Okay, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Nico left me alone in the classroom. I went to the bathroom and put more cover-up on. So many bruises in so little time. How did Bruce or Tim not notice? Did they not care? Did they think that I deserved this? Why? Why didn’t they help me? Why didn’t they see?

I was astonished to find that I was crying. I had to reapply the cover-up.

But they were detectives. So why couldn’t they see?

At lunch, Tim tried to talk to me, but I avoided him and made a hasty retreat to the art classroom, where Nico apologized and we laughed and joked like he hadn’t choked me earlier in the day. Tim tried to speak to me in the library at study hall, but I left and hid in the bathroom. It wasn’t as if I paid any attention in class anymore. It wasn’t as if I was actually going to do my homework. I had more important things to worry about.

Unfortunately, Tim managed to corner me as soon as I exited the bathroom before art class. He studied my face, but what for, I wasn’t sure. I was quickly beginning to panic and couldn’t meet Tim’s eyes. I tried to get around him, but he simply blocked my path. My breathing picked up. My palms started sweating. I was trapped. Oh, God, I was trapped. I didn’t like this. Not at all. I backed against the wall in an attempt to increase the space between Tim and I.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?” Tim asked. He was confused, but also concerned. I was happy and scared about that. I wanted him to see, but I didn’t at the same time. Save me, I wanted to yell. Go away, I wanted to shout.

I licked my lips, which suddenly seemed so very dry. “I didn’t want you to know,” I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady and confident. But I still couldn’t look Tim in the eye.

Tim frowned, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He was suddenly so very hard to read. I took that as a bad sign. I tensed. What if he knew? No, he couldn’t know. Did I want him to know?

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “’Cause.”

There were so many reasons I hadn’t told him. But I didn’t know why I’d kept it from him for so long. I liked having the secret. I liked not having to worry about overprotective Bats. Yet perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps I was scared.

Tim tried to gain eye contact with me. I stared at the floor. “That’s not an answer.”

“So what’s he like?” Tim asked me when I didn’t reply. “Do I know him?”

“He’s …” I didn’t know how to describe him. Or maybe I just didn’t want to.

“Elle,” Tim said cautiously, lowly, worriedly. “Does he hurt you?”

Yes, I wanted to scream. No, I wanted to yell. Go away, I wanted to shout.

“We should get to class,” I tried to shoulder past Tim. He blocked my way so abruptly that I accidentally flinched. I wiped my palms on my skirt. Please, please just stop Tim.

“Does he hit you?” Tim asked.

I gathered up my courage and said firmly to the floor, “No. He doesn’t. He loves me. He’s an amazing boyfriend and you don’t get to assume things about someone you haven’t met.” Why did I say that? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Hey, babe.” I flinched. I was in trouble again. So much trouble. I should have kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t supposed to talk to Tim. Nico slid his arm around my waist. He gave me a kiss. “Wanna come over to my place later?”

I smiled over at him but couldn’t meet his eyes, either. I didn’t want to see the anger, the rage, the threat. “Sure.”

Tim must have seen something in the way we interacted. Stupid Bats. Stupid me. “Elle, Alfred wants you home for dinner.”

“We’ll just cut the visit short, then,” Nico said. Tim eyed my boyfriend with distrust. I tugged on Nico’s arm.

“We’ll be late for class,” I said quietly.

We all went to the art room. Tim tried to talk to me there, as well, but Nico kept glaring and I refused to answer, so Tim gave up. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hit something. I wanted control.

As soon as Nico and I entered his apartment, he beat me senseless. I cried and screamed for him to stop. I wondered why the neighbors didn’t call the police. I was glad they didn’t. I was mad they didn’t. I just curled up and took the beating. I deserved it. I was so very, very stupid.

And then it got worse. Oh, how it got worse.

“You don’t appreciate me, you stupid bitch!” Nico shouted at me, slamming a fist into my side.

“Yes I do!” I protested weakly. “I love you!”

“Then why haven’t we done it yet!” he demanded. He started inching my shirt up my stomach. I crawled back as quick as I could, eyes widening. Please, no. Please, please no.

“I’m not ready,” I sobbed. The truth was, I’d never been interested in sex. With anybody. And Nico was no exception.

Nico grabbed my skirt. I scrambled away. My skirt tore. He tried to grab me but I kicked him in the crotch. He bent over in pain. I used that to knee him in the face. On a roll, I proceeded to use what Jason had taught me and punched him a few times. It felt good, but as soon as Nico tried to grab me again, I panicked. I grabbed my purse and ran. I just ran and ran and ran for who knew how long. I was crying hysterically in the middle of the street. No one bothered to help me. That was Gotham for you.

I couldn’t go back to Nico’s. Not after that. And I couldn’t go back the manor. There would be too many questions, not to mention Tim would have told Bruce his suspicions by now. I couldn’t deal with it. My cell phone buzzed. I watched as text message after text message entered my inbox.

NICO: Get back here you fucking bitch.

NICO: Am I not good enough for you? Is that it?

NICO: How many other guys have you had sex with?

NICO: You’re a whore.

NICO: Get back here!

NICO: You know you want it.

NICO: That’s all you’re good for, anyway.

I couldn’t handle all the texts anymore. I put my phone on silent. But I was lost and had nowhere to go. Jason would hunt down Nico. I didn’t know anyone else. Except … I dug around in my purse and finally found that slip of paper. I dialed the number and held the phone to my ear, ignoring the constant beeping informing me of new text messages.

“Hello?”

I swallowed thickly. I opened my mouth, but all that came out were a few sobs.

“Who’s there?”

I took a shaky breath. “Jasmine?” I sniffed. “I … You were right. I need help. Please. I just-I need-I –”

“Where are you?” Jasmine asked. “I’ll come get you and we can talk.”

I told her my location. She stayed on the phone with me as I blubbered and waited for her to arrive. Twenty minutes later, she came up to where I was.

“Thank you,” I said, still crying.

Jasmine listened to me rant some more before gently leading me to the bus station. We took the bus to a more suburban part of the city and then walked from there. She led me to her house and even snuck me past her family.

In her room, she finally said, “You need to break up with him.”

I shook my head in despair. “I can’t, I –”

Jasmine placed her hand over mine. I tensed, but the longer her hand was there, the more I relaxed. “I know you’re scared,” she said calmly as soon as I’d relaxed. “But you have to.”

“But I have to keep him happy,” I said. “I’m scared, but he needs me. I know he does. I just need to be better.”

“No, you don’t,” Jasmine told me firmly. She inched closer to me on her bed. I tensed and flinched. Once again, Jasmine waited until the tension had left my body before continuing speaking. “What he’s doing is wrong.”

“But I love him,” I said like a broken record. “I know I do.” Did I? “And he loves me.” I broke down crying again. “But why does he hit me? Why aren’t I good enough?”

Jasmine gently put her arms around me in a loose hug. Only after I’d relaxed did she tighten her hold on me slightly. I collapsed against her, crying into her shoulder.

“You are good enough,” she said gently. “You’ll get through this.”

Jasmine let me stay overnight. For that, I was thankful. I didn’t know what I would do if the Batfamily interrogated me the minute I stepped into the manor. The texts and missed calls were bad enough.

TIM: Where are you? Please don’t tell me you’re with your boyfriend.

TIM: I’ve asked around. There are so many rumors about you guys…

TIM: Have you slept with him?

TIM: Did he force you to?

TIM: Please, Elle, I have to know.

TIM: Please text back so I know you’re not dead.

TIM: Elle?

He must have told Bruce and Dick because there were missed calls from the both of them. Plus a few scattered text messages.

BRUCE: Come home, Elle. We’re worried.

BRUCE: Is it true that you have a boyfriend?

BRUCE: I will go out and find you if I have to.

I winced at that. I kind of hoped he wouldn’t.

DICK: What’s this I hear about a boyfriend?

DICK: Why did Tim just tell me he thinks your bf hits you?

DICK: Answer me, Elle.

DICK: What’s going on?

DICK: That’s it. I’m going to Gotham. You better be at the manor when I get there.

I bit my lip. When Dick got angry, he got angry. My pulse raced as my mind connected that thought to Nico hitting me. I shook the images away. Dick wouldn’t hit me. Would he? No, of course he wouldn’t. What was I thinking? Except a part of me couldn’t help but wonder.

And then there were the couple of texts from Jason.

JASON: Where is this boyfriend of yours so I can kill him slowly and painfully.

JASON: You better not be with him, or so help me …

I fell asleep, but not before worrying about my return to the manor. I didn’t exactly have any other place to stay. It was either the manor or Jason’s apartment. Either way, I’d have to face someone. I’d rather it not be the guy with the gun.

But I’d rather it wasn’t anyone even more.


	21. Living in Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle's secret comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, domestic violence

ELLE

You never want to live in fear. Unfortunately, most people find themselves doing exactly that. Cops, even if they like their job, constantly fear that one day they’ll die, or that they won’t be able to save someone. Teenagers fear high school and fitting in and rejection. Children fear the great big world. Adults fear getting fired or not being able to support themselves or worse.

I feared rejection when I was younger. I still do, although I’m better at hiding it. Living with my foster family, I feared each and every one of them. Living in Wayne Manor, I fear I’m not good enough. I fear being thrown out. I fear Nico’s anger. Anyone’s anger, really, especially when it’s directed at me. I fear that I’m going to fail.

Living in Gotham, I fear for my life.

And yet, I do not fear death.

//\\\

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 24

I woke up early the next morning. I left a note for Jasmine before sneaking out of her house. I could do this. I could. But what if I couldn’t? What if I failed? With each step I took towards Nico’s apartment, the more erratic my breathing became, the sweatier my palms were, the more I chewed my lip.

But I had to do this.

I knocked on the door after standing in front of it for a few minutes. The door flung open. I flinched. I almost backed down, almost ran away, almost burst into tears. But I braved it and stepped into the room as confidently as I could.

“I knew you’d be back,” Nico said, sounding so smug that I wanted to punch him.

I took a shaky breath. When I spoke, my voice was barely above a whisper. “I-I think we should break up.” There. I’d managed to say it.

Nico snorted. I backed away as he stepped closer. “No one breaks up with me.” He leaned his face close to mine. “No. One.” He took a step away, only to backhand me. I hit my head on the wall before falling to the floor.

“You’re mine!” Nico yelled, grabbing my bad shoulder and slamming me against the ground. I shrieked in pain. “So you do as I say!” And so began the onslaught of kicks and punches.

I couldn’t take this. I couldn’t do this. “I’m sorry!” I pleaded. “Please stop! I’m sorry!” This had been a bad idea. I just needed to be better for Nico. Leaving him would only make him angrier; I saw that now. He needed me. 

He got bored a few minutes later and went to his bedroom. I went to the bathroom and applied more cover-up.

Afterwards, I crept hesitantly towards Nico’s bedroom. “C-can I go home?” I asked quietly. “I-I don’t want them to be worried.” Why was I asking permission? Why couldn’t I just go? I hated myself. I hated this situation. I was so stupid.

Nico gave me permission. I had to struggle not to wince or limp while walking all the way back to Wayne Manor.

As soon as I’d entered the room, I was attacked with a hug from Dick. I didn’t realize this as it happened, though. I flinched and forcefully pushed him away from me while simultaneously backing up a few steps. Hurt covered Dick’s face.

“We were worried,” Dick said. He took a step forward. I took one back. He raised his arms in the universal sign of surrender. He tried to catch my eye but I found the ground much more interesting. “You didn’t tell any of us where you were.”

I shrugged.

Dick cautiously took a step forward. Although I tensed, I stayed rooted to the spot I was in. “Can you look at me? Please?” He sounded so overly calm and concerned and like I was a skittish animal. Perhaps I was. I was stupid enough to be one.

I slowly lifted my gaze to meet Dick’s. His eyes traced my face. Please, don’t see. Please, save me. Just go away. Please, just leave me alone.

“What is this I’ve heard about a boyfriend?”

“It’s nothing,” I said, perhaps too quickly. “Just-just a guy I met.”

Dick nodded, more to himself than anything. I swallowed thickly. He observed my outfit. “Where did you get that tear?” he asked, gesturing towards my skirt.

Lie, lie, quick, lie! I had to protect Nico. “I tripped.” Yeah, like Dick was ever going to buy that.

Dick sighed. He sounded so sad, so distressed. He shouldn’t ever sound like that. “Elle –”

“It’s nothing!” I said. I couldn’t handle this anymore. I ran as best I could up to my room, ignoring both Tim and Bruce.

Later that night, when they thought I was asleep, I heard the three of them plus Alfred talking right outside my door.

“All signs point towards abuse,” Dick said.

“She’s never mentioned him before,” Tim said, a little hurt. I held my teddy bear to my chest. “Why would she hide the fact that she has a boyfriend?”

“She flinched when I hugged her,” Dick added.

“She was terrified of me,” Tim agreed. I buried my face in the teddy bear’s head. “When I cornered her at school. She was scared. Of him, too.”

“Might I add that her marks are slipping as well,” Alfred put in his two cents worth. I closed my eyes.

“And have you noticed the cover-up?” Dick asked.

“We can’t just make assumptions,” Bruce said.

“But Bruce,” Tim protested. “All of the signs are there. Not to mention, this guy is known for being abusive around the school.”

“So why isn’t he in prison?” Bruce demanded.

“Friends in high places.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“If I may, sirs,” Alfred said. “But I believe the current problem that needs solving is how to get Miss Elle out of this unhealthy relationship.” A tear slipped down my cheek.

“You’re right,” Bruce said.

They separated, then. Maybe going to bed. Maybe not. I didn’t know.

I didn’t know how to feel about my situation anymore. I was tempted to run off again, but my exhaustion pulled me into sleep.

//\\\

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 25

Dick insisted on taking me out to the city. He also insisted that I drove us. I had difficulty parallel parking near the arcade but finally managed to do so with Dick’s encouragement. And teasing. But no matter how lighthearted he pretended to be, I could still see the serious and concerned emotions in his eyes.

I was glad that he didn’t bring up Nico right away. We hung out at the arcade and then went to some other places. We ended up at the park. It was then that Dick decided to bring up Nico.

“Elle,” he began slowly. “We were all talking…” He didn’t need to specify who ‘we’ was. “And we think that you need help.”

I feigned innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Dick frowned. “Yes, you do.” He sighed. “Elle, I want you to answer me honestly.” He turned to face me. “Does your boyfriend abuse you?”

“It’s not abuse,” I said before I could think.

Dick looked upset. “Does he hit you?” he amended his question. “Kick you? Call you names? Make you feel like you’re nothing? Does he –”

“Stop it,” I said, my voice cracking. I was ashamed by the tears in my eyes. I wouldn’t cry. I refused to.

“You have to tell me,” Dick pleaded. “Let us help you.”

“I said stop,” I repeated, firmer this time.

“I can’t just let this go.”

“Then can we talk about it later?” I begged quietly. Dick looked like he was going to refuse but sighed.

“I’ll get some ice cream,” he said, spotting an ice cream vendor. “Chocolate?”

I shook my head. “Strawberry, please.”

Dick went off to get the ice cream. And, just my luck, Nico appeared out of what seemed like nowhere. How long had he been watching me? Had he been following me?

“You cheating on me, slut?” Nico demanded. I shook my head hastily.

“N-no, I –”

“Slut,” Nico hissed again. He hit my bad shoulder and then kicked my feet out from under me. Why didn’t anyone help? Why didn’t anyone care? Where was Dick?

“W-were you following me?” I managed to ask despite my pain and the tears. That earned me a kick to the ribs.

“I had to make sure you weren’t cheating on me,” Nico said. “And you are. Slut.” He kicked me again. “You’re a cock.” Kick. “Sucking.” Punch. “Whore.” 

“Hey!” I heard Dick yell.

Feeling slightly more confident with an angry and overprotective Dick on his way over, I smirked weakly. “That’s my brother.” I pushed myself into a kneeling position. “And he’s gonna kick your sorry ass.”

Nico ran off like the coward he was. It felt good being in control, even just barely. Dick handed me my ice cream as he helped me stand.

“Let me guess; asshole boyfriend,” Dick said darkly.

I bit my lip. “He’s not usually that bad.” No, he was worse. Dick easily read between the lines.

“Let’s go back to the car. I’ll drive.” The unspoken “we’ll talk about this later” hung in the air as we ate our ice cream.

‘Later’ ended up being the minute we got back to the manor. Tim, Bruce, and Alfred all asked me questions – was it really that obvious now? – but Dick led me away, saying quietly as he passed them, “Let me talk to her, guys.”

I sat on the couch across from Dick, staring at my lap. I fiddled with the bottom of my shirt.

“Why don’t you break up with him?” Dick asked, not unkindly.

I shrugged. “Wouldn’t let me.”

“Elle –”

“It’s fine,” I protested. I sounded fake and pretend even to my own ears. “Really. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not!” I jumped and looked up at Dick with wide eyes. “He’s hurting you. It’s abuse. Break up with him!”

“I can’t,” I said, breaking down in tears. “I tried, but it only made him mad.” Dick went to say something but I cut him off before he could. “It’s my fault, anyway.”

“What is?” Dick asked warily.

“Everything,” I sobbed. “I’m not good enough. I’ve never been good enough. And I’m stupid. So, so stupid. No wonder he hits me.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“If I was better, he wouldn’t be angry all the time.” I sniffed. “He used to be so nice and sweet. We loved each other.”

“What he’s doing to you isn’t because he loves you,” Dick said. “It’s because he’s selfish and an asshole.”

My cell phone beeped. A new text message. Dick grabbed my phone before I could look at it. I slouched in defeat as he read through Nico and my conversations. 

“This is abuse,” Dick repeated. “I don’t know how to get through to you except to keep telling you what it is.”

“It’s still my fault,” I said softly.

“Would you stop saying that!” Dick yelled, standing up and throwing his arms up in frustration.

My body reacted accordingly. I flinched away, bringing my arms up in front of my face. I brought a leg up to shield my stomach. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

“Oh, God, Elle,” I heard Dick said, horrified. “I’m not going to-I would never –”

I slowly relaxed my body. I looked over at Dick. He sat beside me on the couch. I flinched. He put his hands on my shoulders, ignoring my flinch. He stared me in the eye, ignoring my terrified expression.

“You’re not gonna hit me?” I asked, just to be sure.

Hurt flitted across Dick’s face, which was quickly replaced by horror. “No. Ellie, no. I would never, ever hit you.”

“Why?” I blurted.

“Because it’s wrong. It’s not right, not at all.”

I started crying harder. Dick brought me into his chest. I stiffened. He ignored that and just rocked me, hushing me. I cried hysterically onto his shirt.

“Why does he hit me?” I asked, broken. “What did I do?”

“Ssh, Ellie,” Dick said quietly, holding me tighter. “You’ll be okay, little sister. You’ll be okay.”

Dick must have told Tim and Bruce not to bother me because neither of them hounded me with questions the rest of the day. Alfred, though, had to check my bruises.

“You are going to have to remove your shirt,” he said. I blushed. “I have to make sure there is no serious damage.”

“And we can’t call a doctor …?” I tried to weasel my way out of it.

Alfred was not amused. “I take care of the Master Bruce and Master Timothy when they are injured, and Master Richard when the situation calls for it.” Right. Bat business. Couldn’t let it get out who the Batfamily was. “Now, if you’ll please remove your shirt.”

I did so reluctantly. I crossed my arms in an attempt to cover myself up. Alfred’s eyes widened at how many bruises littered my body.

“Your trousers, as well,” Alfred said. With a sigh, I removed my jeans. I shifted awkwardly as Alfred observed the bruises, being very careful not to touch me or get too close to me. For that, I was thankful.

Alfred poked my ribs a bit and declared a few of them bruised but not broken. He did some other tests and then looked at my shoulder. He cleaned it up better than I did and put a bandage around it. I showed up my hand. He did the same thing.

“Miss Elle, I have to ask,” Alfred said, breaking the awkward silence. “But did this man ever …” He trailed off, but I knew what he was asking.

“He tried,” I said, staring at the ground. “I ran off before …” Before bad things could happen.

Alfred let me get dressed at long last and then allowed me to help cook dinner, probably knowing that I needed to get my mind off of Nico.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I ignored any and all texts from Nico. I bit my lip as I went through my contacts.

ELLE: I’m sorry. You were right.

A few minutes later, I gained a response.

JASON: Tomorrow. Target practice. Don’t be late.

I grinned.

And then pushed the teddy bear off my bed.


	22. Lifesaver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Batfamily all help Elle get out of her abusive relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: language

ELLE

Is it even possible to save me anymore? Everyone might know that Nico gets a bit … rough with me now, but he’s still my boyfriend. I still love him. And I think that he cares about me, somewhere deep down. Or maybe I’m just confused. My head hurts just trying to figure everything out.

I want to leave Nico, but I want him to love me, too. I can’t have both. It’s a matter of what I think is more important: my life and happiness, or his love. Honestly, I don’t know which one is more important. I mean, Nico has become my life, which scares me. What would I do for him? Why do I even care about him?

Why can’t I break up with him the way my mind tells me I should?

Thus is the difficulty of humanity. Which to follow: the heart or the mind. My heart says to stay. My mind says to leave. My heart loves Nico and justifies his actions. My mind uses logic against me, reminds me that it’s … it’s abuse.

It’s abuse.

I’m being abused.

Nico is abusing me.

And I don’t know what to do about it.

//\\\

MONDAY, OCTOBER 26

I woke up early, head pounding, probably due to stress and from crying so much. To make matters worse, my entire body ached. It took me three tries to get myself out of bed. I bit my lip to prevent any sound from escaping. I took a long shower. Afterwards, I took a deep breath and stared into the bathroom mirror, this time with different eyes than before.

I choked back a sob. I couldn’t even recognize myself. I had bruises around my neck and one on the side of my face – that one was smaller and less noticeable; Nico probably knew marking up my face too much would arouse suspicion.

I stood on tiptoes to see a little further. More bruises. I turned a little. The cut on my shoulder was still there, but at least it was healing. I looked down at my body. Bruises, bruises, bruises, and a cut on my hand.

I closed my eyes but the images remained. I blindly reached for a towel and covered myself with it. I slid down the wall onto the tile floor, tears slipping down my nose. I held a hand to my mouth in an attempt to stifle my sobs.

I didn’t know how long I sat there bawling my eyes out. But eventually, I heard a knock on the bathroom door. I was crying too hard to reply so I hid my face in my knees.

“Elle?” I heard Bruce call through the door. I didn’t answer.

The door opened. I heard Bruce step towards me carefully, hesitantly. I was embarrassed to be caught crying, clothed only in a towel, on the bathroom floor, with all of my bruises and cuts showing.

I flinched when Bruce put a hand on my shoulder. When had he knelt beside me? I didn’t relax. I just continued to cry.

After several minutes of silence, I lifted my head and stared at the wall in front of me. “Why does he do it?” I asked, voice cracking. I turned to Bruce. “What did I do wrong?”

“It isn’t you,” Bruce said harshly, narrowing his eyes. I flinched. He finally dropped his hand from my shoulder as he sighed. “No matter what happened, or what happens,” Bruce said, calmly this time, “it will never be your fault.”

I hiccupped. “I’m sorry,” I said pathetically before throwing myself into his arms. It took Bruce a moment, but he eventually wrapped his arms around me in a hug. I cried some more into his – nice, expensive – shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” I repeated after I’d finally calmed down.

Bruce rubbed my back gently. I flinched a bit but quickly got over it. “Don’t be.” I pulled away. “You’re not going to school today,” Bruce told me. I didn’t have it in me to argue. “Do you want Alfred to bring you breakfast in bed?”

I wanted to say yes, but I knew that I had to face Dick and Tim at some point. “No thanks. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Bruce nodded and stood up. “I have a meeting,” he said. “So I won’t be at breakfast.”

“Okay.”

Bruce helped me stand up. “I’ll try to be home this afternoon.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t go anywhere near the boy who did this to you,” Bruce’s tone darkened.

I winced. “Okay.”

Bruce hesitated before leaning forward and kissing me on my forehead. I blinked in surprise, too shocked to even move.

“I’m sorry I never noticed,” Bruce told me. “And I think a part of that is because I’m not around as much as I’d like to be. But things are going to change. I promise.”

I nodded, grinning slightly. “You don’t have to apologize, but thanks.”

“I still don’t know very much about you,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “And I’m not around enough to find out.”

I tilted my head. “I’m a secretive person. It’s not your fault.”

Bruce didn’t answer. He went into my bedroom. I followed, holding my towel to keep it from falling. He took a long look around. He sort of reminded me of Sherlock Holmes, deducing everything.

“You like reading science fiction and dystopias,” Bruce said, more to himself than to me. He picked up a few of my CDs. “Superchick, Pink, Carrie Underwood, Taylor Swift.” He trailed off. “Artists who generally inspire their listeners to be themselves.” He glanced at the country CDs. “And love.” I blushed but didn’t disagree.

He moved to my nightstand, where my laptop, cell phone, and iPod were. He looked at my bed. “Your favorite color is purple.” He looked at the pillow. “Although I’m guessing red is a close second.” He looked over at me and I nodded, encouraging him to continue. This was interesting, amusing, and a little nerve-wracking all at the same time.

“I’m guessing this was a gift from …?” he pointed at the teddy bear that was still on the floor.

I nodded slowly. “I don’t like stuffed bears that much, though,” I admitted. “Fun fact of the day: my favorite animals are cuttlefish and turtles.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t comment. He headed towards my bedroom door. “I’ve got to go,” he told me. “But we can talk more later.”

I smiled. Then, taking a chance, I said, “I’ll hold you to it.” I liked being able to talk more, being able to express myself a little more. It gave me more control. And it made me feel … more alive.

Bruce chuckled and left. I closed the door and got dressed in sweatpants, a tank top, and a hoodie. I wanted to put on socks and apply cover-up to my face, but I had to get over it. By hiding the bruises, I hid the abuse. And while I did cover the rest of my body up, I figured that I could be more comfortable doing things in steps. Very small baby steps.

It took me a while to get down the stairs due to the pain, but I finally managed to do so. I headed to the kitchen, where Tim and Dick were already eating. They stopped when they saw me. I shifted uncomfortably as they outright stared at my face.

“Miss Elle, would you like some waffles?” Alfred asked, breaking the awkward silence.

I grinned nervously. “Just cereal. And a piece of toast? Please?” Simple is what I needed.

Alfred nodded. “Of course. Any cereal in particular you’d care for?”

“I can get it myself, thanks,” I told him. I went over to the cabinet and poured myself a bowl of mini wheats while Alfred got my toast.

I sat at the table and began eating, ignoring how Tim and Dick still watched my every move. Finally, I sighed.

“I’m not going to break.” Again, I added mentally. “You can talk.” Please?

“Sorry, it’s just,” Tim hesitated before asking incredulously, “Did he choke you?”

I adjusted the hoodie so those bruises weren’t visible. That should be answer enough.

“How are you?” Dick asked me. “And don’t say fine.”

I took another bite of cereal before speaking. “Tired. In pain. Sad. Angry. Frustrated. Confused. Need I go on?”

“Talk to us,” Tim said. “What are you thinking?”

“Let us help,” Dick pleaded quietly.

I finished off my cereal and thanked Alfred when he placed a piece of toast in front of me. I spread butter and then grape jam onto it and took a bite before answering Tim’s question.

“I’m thinking that I’m stupid,” I said slowly, staring down at my plate. I cut off any protests the boys were about to make. “I let him get close. I don’t just do that. And then I fell in love with him. And then I was too weak to stop him from hitting me and was – am – too scared to leave. I’m stupid because I didn’t ask for help and because I didn’t listen to this girl who tried to help me.”

“Elle,” Dick whispered sadly.

“I don’t know why I’m sad. I’m tired of trying to get through this. I’m angry at him and at Jasmine and at everyone, really, but I don’t know why. I’m frustrated and confused because I want to leave Nico but a part of me still believes that I can make him happy again.”

“Nothing you do is going to make him happy,” Dick said softly. “He’ll always find something to criticize, find some excuse to hit you.”

“But I love him,” I said, eyes watering. “I don’t know how to let go.”

I pushed away the rest of my breakfast, not hungry anymore.

“I think you will find that this will help you immensely with the pain,” Alfred said, handing me a bottle of ibuprofen. I took two tablets before returning the rest to Alfred.

“The first thing you need to do is delete him from your phone,” Tim said.

“My phone’s upstairs,” I replied.

“Then let’s go,” Tim stood up.

Dick stood as well, and looked at me. “We’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Indeed we will,” Alfred agreed.

I looked at the three of them before slowly getting up. Much to my embarrassment, Dick carried me up the stairs. Once in my room, I grabbed my phone. I had a few new texts from Nico. I bit my lip.

“Don’t even look at them,” Tim ordered, somehow knowing.

I deleted all of the messages between Nico and I. It took me a few moments, but I finally managed to delete him from my contacts.

“Let me see that,” Tim said. I handed him my phone. He fiddled around a bit before handing it back to me. “I blocked him from sending new messages.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “You can do that?”

Tim shrugged. “I did.”

“Next,” Dick interrupted. He’d slipped out and gotten a trash bag. “Throw out anything of his.”

I bent down and picked up the teddy bear. My eyes watered but I managed to throw it into the bag, along with Nico’s jacket and the necklace he’d gotten me. A few little things he’d gotten me before he’d started hitting me – a shirt, a bandana, a painting – all were thrown away.

I laughed to myself. I could feel that I was slowly freeing myself from Nico. And it felt good.

Alfred took the bag outside before starting the car. Tim ran to get his backpack and then left for school, even though he’d already missed the first three classes. Dick turned to me and gave me a hug, ignoring my flinch.

“It will get better,” he told me gently.

“I know,” I said, even though I didn’t know, but I trusted that my family would help me.

“And if you ever need to talk to someone, I’m willing to listen,” Dick said seriously. “No matter what time it is. Day or night. No matter which job I’m working. I want you to call.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Dick left soon after that. That was when I remembered that Jason wanted to teach me more target practice. I put on my sneakers, grabbed my phone, left a note for Alfred, and then started the long walk to Jason’s apartment.

Jason rose an eyebrow when he opened the door. “Don’t you have school, kid?” he asked, although I noticed that he eyes the small bruise on my face and the slightly visible bruise on my neck. I readjusted my hoodie again.

“You said not to be late,” I replied lightly.

Jason rubbed a hand on his face before grabbing our helmets. We sped over to our target practice area. I practiced shooting a gun, throwing knives, and stabbing methods. Afterwards, Jason and I sparred. At first, it was difficult because I kept flinching and ducking and backing away. But as time went on, I was slowly able to ignore my instincts and fight back.

A few hours passed before my already-sore body couldn’t take anymore. Jason bought me McDonalds and we spent an hour in the park, just hanging out and talking.

I hadn’t even realized that school had ended for the day until Nico showed up.

“You fucking bitch!” Nico shouted. I stood up on instinct, eyes wide.

“Nico –”

“Oh, so this is the abusive son of a bitch,” Jason said, standing up from the bench as well.

“Keep out of this,” Nico snapped. To me, he demanded, “Is he your fuck buddy? Always knew you were a slut.”

Jason promptly punched Nico in the jaw. Nico, clearly not expecting it, stumbled back a few steps.

“You don’t talk to a woman like that,” Jason said, tensed up and ready for a fight.

Nico shook off his surprise and tried to hit Jason. Jason grabbed Nico’s arm and twisted it. He used his other hand to punch Nico in the stomach. I just stood there, my mind not quite processing what was happening, but oh-so-glad that Jason was there.

“What?” Jason asked angrily. “You can’t take a punch?”

“Nico,” I interrupted to prevent a full-out brawl from taking place. I took a breath. I reminded myself that Jason was there and would prevent Nico from hurting me. “We’re through.”

Nico pulled away from Jason. “I told you. No one breaks up with me.”

I did my best to glare at him. I didn’t think it worked out, though. I was still frightened. “Well, I am.”

“Listen here, bitch –”

This time, it was me who punched his face. And it felt good. Like, really, really good.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” I said. I took a step back. “We’re done.”

Nico was about to respond, but Jason glared at him. Nico huffed and stomped off. I released my breath. Jason turned to me.

“Not bad, kid,” he said. “Probably broke his nose.”

I grinned. “Thanks. I was terrified, though.”

“The best way to get over your fear is to face it head-on,” Jason told me. “So what d’ya say? Think Cougar should make an appearance tomorrow night?”

I grinned wider. “Are you serious?” I asked excitedly.

Jason chuckled, which surprised me to no end. “Come by my place around 6-ish. We’ll get you an outfit and then head out. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” I said a little breathlessly. Maybe it was too soon, but I wanted to help people. I wanted control. I wanted to be out there doing something. I couldn’t wait.

Jason dropped me off at the library. I started my walk back to Wayne Manor. As I walked, I called Jasmine.

“Hello?”

I took a breath. “Hey. It’s Elle. I just … wanted to apologize.”

“Don’t,” Jasmine said. “Just, don’t. You don’t need to apologize. I’ve been there.”

“Yeah, but still.”

“Do you want to hang out sometime?” she asked. “You can spill your feelings or whatever in person. Much better than over the phone. Trust me.”

“Sure. I’ll see you in school tomorrow. We can talk then.”

“Sounds great. Bye.”

I ended the call just as I made it to the manor. I helped Alfred make dinner. After the meal, Bruce, Tim, and I played Scrabble, and then Mario Kart. We watched a movie, which ended at 11:00.

“Why don’t you let people get close to you?” Tim asked me. I was barely staying awake.

“Mostly ‘cause I’m shy,” I said, resting my head on Tim’s shoulder. “I’m afraid of what people think of me. I don’t want them to make fun of me for who I am or what I like. Or don’t like.” I yawned.

“We won’t laugh at you,” Bruce told me. “We just want to get to know you more.”

I laughed quietly. “You already had the fun fact of the day.”

“What was the fun fact?” Tim asked.

I yawned again, snuggling closer to Tim. “I don’t like teddy bears and my favorite animals are turtles and cuttlefish.”

“That’s more than one,” Tim teased.

I groaned. “Shut up,” I whined.

“I think it’s time for bed,” Bruce chuckled. He lifted me up.

I struggled lightly, eyes closed and already falling asleep. “I can walk,” I mumbled. Bruce ignored me and took me to my room.

“Good night,” Bruce said, leaving the room and closing my door.

“‘Night, Elle,” Tim called through the door.

I didn’t have any nightmares that night.


	23. Mistakes of the Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle tries to get her life back on track ... and starts some risky business with Jason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, violence

ELLE

Everyone makes mistakes. Most of these mistakes turn into regrets, and so you work to the best of your ability to fix what you’ve done or, if that’s not possible, avoid making that same mistake again.

Making mistakes are a part of life. Without them, no one ever really learns. If a mistake hadn’t been made, then electricity would exist. If a mistake hadn’t been made, you would have never learned to not touch the hot stove. Without making a mistake on a high school exam, you would have never learned how to get the correct answer.

Even the bad mistakes that people regret the most help them learn. A teenager who shoplifts on a dare or to look cool might realize that he or she isn’t that type of person, and so stops caring about what his or her peers think about him or her. Driving while intoxicated and getting into a car accident makes the driver learn – really learn – not to do that again.

I’ve made mistakes. It feels as though they all run together. The fact that I hid my boyfriend at all, and then the following abuse and still not saying anything, and then staying with him and lying for him – not to mention my grades and my attitude – all of these mistakes, these regrets, I am still able to fix. I intend to do just that.

I can maybe make a friend in Jasmine. I’ll be more open and honest with everyone. I’ll bring my grades back up and work on my attitude.

And yet, I say this even while knowing that I’m about to keep lying, keep hiding, from the Bats. But they can never understand how much I want to protect Gotham in any way I can. I want to fight and defend others as well as myself.

Maybe becoming Cougar will be another mistake, but I’ll make sure it won’t be something I regret.

//\\\

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 27

Even though no nightmares plagued me, I still woke up at 5:00 in the morning. Unable to fall back asleep, I struggled through push-ups and sit-ups, took a shower, dressed, and then went downstairs. Alfred was awake as well.

“Good morning, Miss Elle,” Alfred greeted. “Any particular reason you’re up this early?”

I shrugged. “Not really. Couldn’t sleep. I’d go for a run, but …”

Alfred nodded. “Follow me.”

He led me to the medicine cabinet and handed me the bottle of ibuprofen. “Seeing as you will no doubt need these more than any of the others, you may have this,” he said. “I will simply have to pick up a new one for the rest of the family to use.”

I thanked him and took two.

“Is there anything I can help with?” I asked. “I still have a couple hours before school.”

“I have a better idea.” Alfred led me outside and handed me the car keys. “You haven’t driven in a while.”

The next hour and a half, I drove around Gotham to the best of my ability. Alfred was patient with me the entire time. When we returned to Wayne Manor, it was almost 7:00. I went up to my room to apply cover-up to the bruises on my face and neck – just because I didn’t mind the Batfamily seeing them didn’t mean I wanted the entire school to – and then grabbed my backpack to bring downstairs for easier access after breakfast. Of course, my cell phone beeped just as I was about to leave my room.

DICK: So what’s today’s fun fact?

I stared at the text, confused. Tim exited his room and saw my face.

“What does it say?” he asked me.

“Dick wants to know today’s fun fact …?” I questioned. Tim covered up a snort of amusement. I stared at him. “Do you know something about this?”

Tim led the way downstairs and to the kitchen, mischievous grin on his face. “Tim!” I called after him.

I huffed in frustration as I made myself toast with butter and jam. Tim got himself a bowl of Captain Crunch. Tim kept grinning over at me.

“Okay, what?” I asked, annoyed. Tim shook his head. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and slammed it on the table. “No, seriously, what?”

Tim shrugged. “Well, you told us yesterday’s fun fact. So what’s today’s?”

My eyes widened in realization. I groaned as I took a bite of my food. “Seriously? It’s called sarcasm. I can be sarcastic, you know.”

“We – as in Alfred, Dick, Bruce, and I – are all taking it seriously,” Tim informed me, still smiling. “We’re going to start a fun facts list.”

“About me,” I said dryly.

“Yup.”

I shook my head as I finished my food. “But why?”

“Dick thinks it’ll be a good way to learn more about you,” Tim explained. “And the rest of us agree.”

Tim brought out a piece of paper and a pen from his backpack. I groaned again and put my head in my hands, embarrassed.

“Let’s see,” Tim said. “Obviously, you’re a Batman fan,” he teased.

I blushed. “Please tell me you’re not writing that down.”

He wrote it down. “Your favorite animals are cuttlefish and turtles.”

“Shut up,” I whined.

“You’re interested in martial arts.” I was surprised he even remembered me asking. “You’re shy but can be sarcastic. And have a short temper.”

“Miss Elle seems to enjoy working,” Alfred contributed.

“It’s not that I enjoy it,” I corrected. “I just don’t want to be lazy.”

“You enjoy going for runs,” Alfred said. I nodded, thankful that he didn’t say the real reason that I went for runs. “And you like orange juice with your breakfast.”

“You guys can stop any time now,” I said, shifting uncomfortably.

“We should probably include Dick in this,” Tim said to himself, reaching for his cell phone. I put my head on the table as he dialed and then eventually put Dick on speaker.

“Seriously, guys, you can stop,” I begged.

“But what’s the fun in that!” Dick teased. “So what do you have so far?” Tim read off the list. “She likes strawberry ice cream,” Dick informed the others.

“She enjoys reading dystopias and science fiction novels,” Bruce walked into the kitchen, fixing his tie. I shot him a look of mock betrayal.

“You’re in on this too?” I complained.

Bruce sort-of smirked. “Her favorite music artists are Carrie Underwood, Taylor Swift, Superchick, and Pink.”

“How did you even remember that?” I asked.

“You don’t like teddy bears,” Bruce went on. “Your favorite colors are purple and red.”

“You guys are a bunch of stalkers,” I whined playfully.

“You don’t know what career to pursue,” Bruce said.

“Oh, she always puts butter and grape jam on toast,” Tim added, writing furiously.

“Her favorite cereal appears to be mini wheats,” Alfred said.

“I give up,” I sighed.

“She has difficulty with math and science,” Tim said.

“That’s all I’ve got,” Dick said.

Finally, the others decided that that was all they really knew about me. It was kind of sad, but I was also surprised that they remembered any of it.

“So, Ellie, what’s today’s fun fact?” Dick asked. Alfred, Tim, and Bruce turned to me.

I blushed and shrugged. “Umm …” My mind blanked out. What to say, what to say …

“Perhaps if it would be easier if one of us were to ask a question,” Alfred spoke up.

“I’ll ask!” Dick said quickly. Tim rolled his eyes. “Who’s your favorite, out of all of us?”

“How’d I know you were gonna ask that?” I sighed quietly. I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“That’s not an answer,” Dick complained. I could picture him pouting.

“I really don’t, though,” I said honestly. “I like each of you for different reasons.” 

Bruce because of his fighting ability. Dick because of his sense of humor and acrobatics. Jason because he wasn’t afraid to kill criminals. Tim because of his dedication to Batman and Robin, and because he knew that Batman needed a Robin. Alfred because of his ability to keep the entire family from falling apart. How could I choose just one? It wasn’t fair. Maybe when they were characters, I would have picked one. But now they’re real people. Playing favorites with real people wasn’t as fun, or fair.

“Fine. New question,” Dick said.

“But –”

“Cat person or dog person?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Cat person.”

“Miss Elle, Master Timothy, I believe it’s time to head off to school,” Alfred broke in. We said goodbye to Dick and Bruce and then went to school.

I didn’t understand what was happening in class at all. Not only did I find it hard to concentrate – my peers knew that Nico and I weren’t together and were teasing me about it, plus I was thinking about meeting up with Jason later – but because I hadn’t paid attention in class and then skipped a few days, I couldn’t keep up with the lessons.

I spent gym class with Jasmine. When I admitted to having difficulty in class, she offered to help tutor me.

“After school at my place,” Jasmine said. “Free of charge.”

I bit my lip. “That’s nice, but …”

“Come on,” Jasmine pleaded. “We can hang out afterwards if you want.”

She really wanted to be friends with me. I supposed that I had to make an effort. “Okay. Meet you at the front of the school later?”

Jasmine gave me a thumb’s up. “Sounds good to me! Any classes in particular you need help with?”

“Math and science, mostly,” I said. Even though I hadn’t had my chemistry class yet, I knew that I would be lost. “But my adopted brother might help me with those in study hall.” If he didn’t go hang out with his friends.

“I’m in the same study hall, remember? I can help you out with math and science then, and then after school we can work on history and English.”

At lunch, I sat with Tim and his friends, really so that I wouldn’t have to worry about Nico sneaking up on me. Luckily, Nico didn’t try to approach me. In study hall, Jasmine helped me with my math and science, allowing Tim to talk to his friends. In art class, Tim and I hurried to class so that we could sit next to each other in the back. When Nico arrived, the only seats left were in the front. I was suddenly very glad that there weren’t assigned seats.

I told Tim I was going to Jasmine’s house, and then waited out front after school. Jasmine led me to her bus and we got on. The other students were loud and threw paper airplanes and pencils at each other. It was a very awkward and very long bus ride. Jasmine’s bus stop was one of the last ones.

“My brother might be home, so don’t freak out,” Jasmine warned me. As she entered her house, she called, “Chance, you home?”

I followed Jasmine nervously through the house. From what I assumed was the basement came a young man, only a couple of years older than Jasmine and I. He had the same tan skin that Jasmine had, the same dark hair, the same brown eyes. They were definitely related. Although that should have been a given.

“Hey, Jazz. Who’s your friend?” Chance very obviously raked his eyes up and down my body. I shuffled a bit so that I was hiding slightly behind Jasmine.

Jasmine rolled her eyes and smacked Chance lightly on the arm. “Stop it. She dated Nico.”

A look of understanding crossed the young man’s face. He dropped what I assumed was supposed to be a “sexy” pose and shot me an apologetic look. He held out his hand.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m Chance.”

I took his hand and shook it. “Elle.”

“No class today?” Jasmine asked.

Chance shook his head. “The professor cancelled.”

“Elle needs help with class, so we’ll be in the living room.”

With that said, Chance left back to the basement and Jasmine led me over to the couch.

“Do you want anything?” Jasmine asked, setting down her backpack. I copied her. “Soda? Chips?”

I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

For the next couple of hours, Jasmine tutored me and helped me with my English and history. English was easy to catch up on, but I’d missed a lot in history class. Jasmine was an okay tutor. Any time I messed up, she made a big deal out of it by teasing me or getting a little frustrated that I didn’t understand. Her reactions only made me want to get the answers correct more.

At around 5:15, I started packing my books. “I have to go,” I said.

Jasmine sighed. “You sure you don’t want to stay overnight or something? It’s no problem.”

“Thanks, but my family’s expecting me home soon,” I lied.

Jasmine nodded. At the front door, as I was about to leave, she said, “It seems like you’ll never get over it. But you will. If you ever need to yell or cry or scream or something, I’m here.”

I nodded shyly. “Gotcha.”

I started walking off. I sent a text to Tim and Bruce, saying that I was staying overnight at Jasmine’s. Instead, I made my way to Jason’s apartment.

Jason led me to a thrift shop.

“What are we doing here?” I asked.

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. “I told you. Getting you an outfit.” He started walking towards the back. “Pick something you can move in.”

“But why here?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “No one notices who buys what here,” he answered. “And I’m paying with cash so there aren’t any cards to trace.”

My eyes widened in understanding. “So, no one can trace me back to …”

“Exactly.”

It took me an hour and a half of a lot of digging to find clothes that both fit me and were comfortable to fight in. I was surprised I’d found anything at all. Most of the clothes looked like they were from another generation, but I found some cheap and modern clothing. I made sure to buy a bunch of other random clothes to hide the ones that I would wear as Cougar.

We drove back to Jason’s apartment, where Jason gave me a bulletproof vest for underneath my shirt and a plain black mask, which he’d apparently made himself. We changed into our outfits. I now wore the bulletproof vest underneath my dark purple short-sleeve shirt, a black leather jacket, a plain blue pair of jeans, black sneakers, and a pair of black gloves. I put on the mask and then messed up my hair in the hopes it would make me less noticeable.

Jason gave me a gun holster and a gun, which I placed on my right thigh. I strapped the boot knife I’d trained with to my right leg, underneath my jeans but easily grabbed.

And then we were off. I just followed Jason, who obviously had a guy in mind.

“So where are we going?” I asked.

Jason didn’t even look at me. “Some guys think they can give drugs to kids without me finding out about it.”

“So we’re going after these guys?” I guessed.

“Aren’t you a smart one,” Jason said sarcastically.

It wasn’t until around 9:00 that Jason spotted one of the guys he was looking for. He stepped into the alley, both guns pointed at the man.

“The one rule I gave you,” Jason mocked. “No dealing to kids.”

I didn’t know why Jason didn’t just shoot the guy. I knew he could do it. I supposed that even Jason got bored sometimes, though. Or maybe he just liked seeing criminals scared of him. I found myself wondering if I could ever get criminals to be afraid of me, too. I found that I enjoyed that thought.

I stayed in the shadows, as Jason had instructed. The drug dealer made a run for it. Jason shot and purposely missed, just so he could go on a chase, I bet. I followed Jason in the shadows the best I could. And then two more guys came out of nowhere. Did drug dealers work together? I had no idea, but these three obviously stuck up for their own. Or just didn’t want to die.

Or something.

Jason fought hand-to hand for a while. As soon as he shot one of the dealers, the other two ran. Jason went after one. The other was coming straight towards me. I leapt out of my hiding spot and kicked him in the stomach. The guy hadn’t seen me and fell to the ground.

“No dealing to kids,” I said as harshly as I could. I had to sound different, act different, be different as Cougar. I couldn’t risk being Elle while in the mask. I had to be confident. I had to scare people. I had to be the complete opposite of my civilian self to prevent any dots from connecting.

The drug dealer caught me by surprise and kicked my feet out from under me. I ignored the pain from the bruises and concentrated on fighting him. I held back my instinct to flinch and run away. I had to face this head on. I got in a good hit, but it wasn’t very strong. I kicked the guy off of me and drew my knife.

“You think a little knife is going to scare me, bitch?” the dealer taunted, drawing a gun. Why he didn’t use it before, I didn’t know.

Without even thinking about it, I grabbed his arm, twisting and lowering it at the same time. The guy shot reflexively twice before using my own move against me. He now held an arm to my chest with my back against him. I headbutted him and twisted so that I stabbed him in the side. The guy’s grip loosened, and I moved away, grabbing the gun and throwing it away.

“It should,” I said. “It really should. You know why?” I kneed him in the stomach before bringing my knife to under his chin. “Because I was trained by Red Hood.”

The guy knocked me off balance. I managed to knick his chin, but not much. He punched my stomach and then smacked me across the face. I fell to the ground. At least I was able to hold in the yelp I’d felt bubbling in my throat. But I was in so much pain. I had to fight it. And I definitely couldn’t cry.

The guy stepped on my wrist, forced me to release the grip on my knife. He reacquired his gun and pointed it at me.

“Guess he didn’t train you well enough,” he smirked. I snarled.

“Well, now that’s just insulting,” Jason said, pointing his own guns at the guy above me.

“She can’t fight worth shit,” the guy retorted, apparently forgetting who exactly the Red Hood was.

“It’s called a distraction, you moron,” I snapped, smirking. Of course, that wasn’t what I’d been going for, but as long as I could get some sort of reputation started – maybe not as a ruthless killer but as a helper to Red Hood – then I was fine with anything.

Jason pulled the trigger. The guy fell, dead. I pushed him off of me with some difficulty. Stupid bruises. Stupid bruised ribs. Stupid cuts on my shoulder.

Jason watched me struggle to my feet. “Your fighting needs work.”

I shot him a glare. “No shit.” I picked up my knife and returned it to its strap. “I knew you were going easy on me in training.”

“We’ll work on it,” Jason said shortly, leading the way. “For now, let’s work on not getting killed on your first night out.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I actually want to be alive long enough to get a reputation.”

On our way back to Jason’s apartment, we were able to stop an attempted rape. The potential rapist was killed and the woman got away. Hopefully my name would get out. I was pretty sure I saw some kid watching us with a cell phone from a window, as well. I snorted to myself as I immediately thought about Tim.

I kept my confidence until I removed the mask at Jason’s apartment. That was when I started thinking about Tim, Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. They would be disappointed in me, maybe even angry. No way would Bruce want to adopt me. But maybe it wasn’t worth it, anyway. I’d enjoyed fighting with Jason. I also liked how I didn’t have to hold back, even if I still wasn’t very strong.

I slept on Jason’s couch that night. I was able to hide the nightmares.


	24. Living on the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle continues to fight as Cougar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, violence

ELLE

Living on the edge is such a strange saying. On the edge of what? Of glory, according to Lady Gaga. Maybe on the edge of a cliff, so that every step you take could send you over if you’re not careful. Or maybe it’s just living on the edge of life. After all, most people live in the same way, more or less. They all crowd into one “lane,” so to speak. So living on the edge of life is like being on the outside of the group, where you’re different from the others.

But one thing’s for sure. It’s a risk to live on the edge, no matter what you’re on the edge of. You’re bound to draw attention to yourself. I mean, that’s kind of the whole point, isn’t it? Or maybe it’s not, depending on what you’re doing, but you’ll still be noticed. Whether it’s in a negative or positive way is impossible to tell.

You could be seen in both negative and positive ways, as strange as that sounds. Some people might view you badly because you’re different from them. You’re not following the “rules” that everyone else is. But you could also be seen in a good light. You could become hope for someone else. You could start a chain reaction. An example of this is the Pride Parade for LGBTQ rights. Some people don’t like change and look down on the people who walk in this parade. Others think they’re brave and might find the courage to come out or organize something in their own town. It completely depends on the person.

I am in no way prepared for the backlash I know I’m going to get by being Cougar. I don’t know if my face is even out there yet, and it’s unlikely that anyone knows my name. But I know that a lot of people are not going to like me. The police don’t like vigilantes, much less criminal vigilantes who are willing to do whatever it takes. A lot of people probably will view me as they view Red Hood; dangerous and a criminal. But some people, the people I help, the people I save – I hope that they’ll take my presence in a positive way.

I’m not a hero. I won’t pretend to be one. I won’t pretend that I’ve become Cougar for all the right reasons. But I hope that someone will look at me and realize that I’m not a villain, either.

//\\\

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 28

I wore the same outfit to school as I did yesterday. Not that anyone would notice; it was a school uniform, after all. I reapplied cover-up to my face and neck, stole ten dollars from Jason, and then headed to school, stopping only to get a muffin at Dunkin Donuts.

Just like yesterday, I struggled through my classes. True, I understood a little more than I had before Jasmine tutored me, but not much more. Jasmine helped me with math and science in study hall again. In art class, Tim and I talked. Nico wasn’t in class, to my relief. Dick texted me after school while I was playing video games with Tim, asking me what the fun fact was. I’d completely forgotten about it, and had hoped that he would have, too. Obviously, that was not the case.

ELLE: Is this going to become a daily thing?

DICK: Yes.

I sighed. Tim looked over at me.

“Ask me something about me,” I said dully. “It’s time for today’s fun fact,” I added in mock-joy.

Tim thought about what to ask for a few moments before speaking. “What’s your favorite food?”

“That’s an impossible question to answer.” I stuck my tongue out at Tim. “I have a favorite breakfast food, a favorite lunch food, a favorite dinner food, a favorite snack, a favorite candy, a favorite dessert …” I teased.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on!” I pouted. “Seriously?”

“Yup.”

I groaned. Tim grinned. “Breakfast food: ham and cheese omelets. Lunch: PB&J with grape jam. Dinner: Pork chops. Candy: rolos. Dessert: Lemon meringue pie. Snack: pizza flavored goldfish.”

Tim went over to the list of fun facts, which was taped to the wall of the living room, and wrote down what I’d said. I texted the “fun facts” to Dick, as well.

“Can we get back to the game now?” I asked Tim. Tim nodded and picked up his controller. Before we could start playing again, Bruce entered the room.

“Something is going on downtown,” Bruce said in his Batman voice. He glanced between me and Tim. He obviously wasn’t about to say any details with me in the room.

“I’ll just … go,” I said awkwardly, standing up.

Tim stood up, too, apologetic expression on his face. “Elle, I’m sorry –”

“Don’t be,” I said, trying to grin. It hurt that they wouldn’t talk about anything in front of me. “Be safe.”

I headed upstairs to my room. I tried to do my history and English homework, but I just couldn’t understand it. English I was able to fake my way through. History, on the other hand, was too difficult for me to figure out. Biting my lip, I glanced at my cell phone. I sighed.

ELLE: Can you help me with history homework?

JASMINE: Sure. You have skype? Might be easier.

ELLE: No. But I can set one up.

A few minutes later, Jasmine and I were on skype. For the next hour and a half, she helped me with my history homework. By the time we’d finished, it was almost 6:00. I looked around the manor for Alfred, but he was nowhere to be found, meaning that he was in the Batcave.

Whatever was happening must be important.

I left a note for Alfred, saying I was going to hang out with Jasmine, and then left. Glad I’d taken money from Jason, I took the bus to a stop a couple blocks away from his apartment.

“You stole ten bucks,” Jason said as soon as I let myself in.

I shrugged. “I can’t ask Bruce for money all the time.”

Jason snorted. “Why not? He’s rich.”

“I feel bad taking money from him,” I said.

Jason glared at me. “So you’re perfectly fine with stealing money from me?”

I grinned. “Yup.”

I grabbed my Cougar outfit from where it was hidden and changed in his bathroom. As I walked away, Jason yelled over to me, “Then maybe you should get a job like everyone else!”

“Where would be the fun in that?” I called back, hurriedly changing. 

I headed back out to where Jason was. “Switch the gloves,” he said to me, handing me another pair.

“Why?” I asked, bemused, even as I did as he asked.

“These are SAP gloves,” he explained. “They help you pack a better punch and helps to prevent wrist injury.”

I nodded, not quite understanding, but accepted the gloves all the same. “Thanks.”

We headed out. I didn’t really understand what we were doing. I just followed Jason around. We stopped a mugging and two drug deals. It was still hard for me to fight due to the bruises, but because I’d already done this once, I could figure out what I did wrong ahead of time. I didn’t make the same mistake twice. The SAP gloves also really helped my punches.

Later in the night, Jason and I came across an attempted kidnapping. There were two guys and a five year old girl. Jason and I fought the guys. The little girl ran off. Long story short, I managed to stab one of the guys in the shoulder before he twisted the knife out of my hands. I raised my gun and shot his dominant arm and left leg. The asshole deserved to suffer for going after children.

Hearing the cops coming, I panicked and couldn’t kill the guy. Luckily, Jason did it for me. I grabbed my knife and followed Jason to one of the rooftops. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. I was not a big fan of heights, but Jason wanted us to use the roofs to escape. We jumped from roof to roof, me with a lot of difficulty and fear of falling.

We headed back to Jason’s apartment. I changed back into my casual clothes, hid my Cougar outfit with Jason’s Red Hood outfit, grabbed a handful of chips, and then took the bus to the bus stop at the library. I walked back to the manor. In the dark. Not fun.

No one questioned why I was out so late. I guess whatever had happened earlier was really important. Yay for important stuff.

//\\\

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 29

I was getting my cereal when I heard my name. Or, rather, Cougar’s name. In a conversation between Tim and Bruce. I was scared that they’d figured out it was me, but I knew it was just my paranoia. Deciding to do the smart thing and find out what they knew, I walked over to the table.

“Who’s Cougar?” I asked, sitting down.

“Red Hood’s sidekick,” Tim said. Bruce shot him a look. “What?”

I pushed back my annoyance at being called a sidekick. Jason and I were partners. “So, who is sh-he?” I hurried to correct myself. Most people say ‘he’ when referring to an unknown person. If I’d said ‘she,’ they might think I knew something. I hoped they didn’t notice my slip.

They didn’t. At least, they didn’t show it. “We don’t know who she is,” Tim told me. “But she’s just as dangerous as Red Hood.”

“Enough, Tim,” Bruce said lowly.

“Hey, I wanna know,” I protested.

“Knowing too much could put you in danger,” Bruce told me. I shot him an irritated look but decided not to remind him that I was friends with Jason.

I was surprised that they didn’t connect the dots. I mean, I was a girl. I hung out with Jason. We were friends. How could you miss that? Of course, they hadn’t seen me – er, Cougar – face-to-face yet. Not to mention, they’d never seen my fighting style. Dick had seen me in the early days. They didn’t know how good – or, not so good – I’d become at fighting. Not to mention, they probably had no idea that I was perfectly okay using guns on criminals.

“How old were you when your family died?” Bruce asked, cutting into my thoughts.

I stiffened. “Why?”

Bruce shrugged. “Fun fact of the day.”

This question was anything but fun. Tim shot a look at Bruce. Alfred took my dishes as I stood up to leave.

“Fourteen,” I said as I walked out of the room. I fought back the tears, picked up my backpack, and went down to the living room to wait.

Tim didn’t say anything on the way to school. Neither did Alfred. For that, I was thankful.

That night, Cougar and Red Hood made an appearance. After Jason had killed someone, we turned to go and patrol – was that even what we did? – but then Batman and Robin appeared. My throat tightened. My stomach was in knots. I couldn’t do this. It would be seconds before they recognized me.

No. I had to be Cougar, and Cougar had to be confident, snarky, not … Elle.

“You’re under arrest,” Batman growled, holding a batarang. Robin looked ready to fight. I assumed a defensive position as Red Hood chuckled.

“Wow, Bruce. You think that’s going to stop me?”

“You need help, Jason,” Batman said. “You’re not thinking straight.”

Is this what happened every time they met up? Arguing and using their civilian names? What was I, chopped liver?

“You know,” I said as loudly and confidently and not-Elle-y as I could. “I really don’t like how you’re talking to my partner.”

“Who are you?” Robin demanded.

I smirked. “Ladies first,” I mocked, ignoring the guilt I felt. It was fun acting like this, but knowing that I had just said that to Tim made me sick to my stomach.

Jason forced a laugh. “She’s got fight in her, this one,” he said. Mockingly, he added, “Cougar, meet Batman and Robin.”

“Jason –”

Jason shot at Batman, initiating the fight. Robin came right at me, throwing three birdarangs. I avoided two but the third one nicked my arm. I hissed in pain. Unfortunately, in my split second of distraction – stupid, stupid me – Robin punched my stomach and then pounded my back as I bent over.

Wanting to prove myself, and maybe a little angry at how easily I was being taken down, I grabbed my knife and slashed at Robin’s leg. He avoided it, and I used my momentum to stand back up. I lunged at Robin, punching him in the face once before he flipped away from me.

We circled each other, watching the other’s moves. I was already breathing heavily. Robin seemed unfazed.

“Who are you?” Robin asked me again.

I watched him carefully as I responded. I refused to be taken off-guard. Again. “Cougar.”

“I meant underneath the mask,” Robin said, annoyed.

“You tell everyone who you are?” I retorted.

I feinted left before attacking to the right. I tried to stab his side – hey, it was all or nothing – but Robin caught my arm. I brought my knee up and hit him in his other side and then elbowed his neck. Robin’s grip on my arm loosened, which I used to break free.

“You don’t have to do this,” Robin said.

I ignored the pathetic attempt to get me to stop fighting, to stop being Cougar. I blocked a couple kicks and punches before attempting my own again. Robin used my movement against me and flipped me onto my back. I dropped my knife. Robin kicked it away.

I managed to trip him and headbutt him before he held me to the ground. I glared at him, trying to think of a way I could escape.

“You know, for someone who carries a gun, you don’t seem too keen on using it,” Robin observed.

“You seem to prefer hand-to-hand fighting instead of using your fancy gadgets,” I retorted, trying to lower the tone of my voice. It would probably be much easier for Robin to recognize my voice now that he was pinning me to the ground.

Suddenly, Robin was thrown off of me. I quickly stood, grabbing my knife.

“I don’t appreciate my partner being molested by kids in leotards,” Jason mocked. “Got that, Replacement?” He raised his gun to Robin. The other gun was trained on Batman.

No way was that going to stop either of them.

Red Hood fired a few shots before running off. I ran after him, ignoring the pain. Note to self: fighting was not a good idea if I already have a gazillion bruises on my body.

It took another twenty minutes, but we finally managed to lose Batman and Robin. We headed back to Jason’s apartment, making sure that we weren’t being followed.

“The adrenaline rush is great and all,” I said, breaking the silence between us. “But you have got to teach me how to fight better on my own. I keep getting my ass kicked!”

“We’ll work on it,” Jason said simply. “For now, go home.”

“What home?” I said before thinking. Jason didn’t respond. When we reached Jason’s apartment, I changed into civilian clothes and then headed back to the manor.


	25. A Better Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle tries to balance school, family, and vigilante work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: language

ELLE

Everyone always aims for a better life. But what exactly is a better life supposed to be? Living in comfort? Being rich? Having a job that you never have to worry about losing? It’s completely up to the individual to decide what a “better life” would be, and yet a lot of people don’t understand this. They think that every person can do better, can live better, in some way. But what makes these people so special that they can say “hey, keep trying, and life will get better”?

A homeless person’s better life might be a house, a job, and food. A rich person’s better life might be respect instead of ridicule. The people in between might just want a job that won’t fire them, a roof over their heads, and less bills to pay. It all depends on the person, though, so any of these can be – and are – different in every case.

Bruce, although wealthy, still wants something more. He wants Gotham to be safe and for criminals to be put away. He wants a better life for others, and maybe the guilt that he may or may not feel from his parents’ deaths will go away someday. Dick is similar. He’s happy, but not happy enough. He wants something more. He wants criminals to be put away to help others, but at the same time he wants the guilt and the hurt and the anger to go away.

I want respect. I want to be in control of my life. I want the pain from my family’s deaths to disappear. I want my past with Nico to fade and to gain a friend or two. I want to be confident and just … do something so that I can look back on my life and be proud of myself. That is the better life I am aiming for.

//\\\

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 30

I woke up, still feeling sore. I forced myself to get up and shower, but after I’d dressed, I collapsed on my bed. I was exhausted and could barely move. And school hadn’t even started yet. My phone buzzed. I ignored it, favoring the option to fall back asleep. Who cares if I was late for school? Unfortunately, my phone buzzed two more times. Deciding whoever was texting me really wanted to get ahold of me, I reached over and read the messages.

JASON: We’ve got business to take care of, kid.

JASON: You’d better answer or so help me I’ll kill you.

JASON: Pick up or I’ll reveal your secret to daddy.

I rolled my eyes.

ELLE: No you wouldn’t because you’d get your ass kicked.

After a moment, I sent out another quick text.

ELLE: He’s not my father.

JASON: Someone told me that some guy’s kidnapping children and whoring them out.

ELLE: Who? Where?

JASON: The guy’s name is Eric Tanner. The where is up in the air.

ELLE: So, what? You want to interrogate him?

JASON: I was actually thinking more along the lines of following him.

ELLE: Wow, a nonviolent solution. You’re losing it, Jase.

JASON: Fuck off. I’m going to find out what I can about this guy. Then we’re going to find out where he takes the kids.

ELLE: What do you want me to do?

JASON: Use the internet. Find out anything you can about him. I’ll ask around.

ELLE: By ask, you mean beat up to near-death until they give you answers. There’s a difference.

JASON: Just do it.

Checking the time, I swore under my breath. I applied cover-up, grabbed my bag and purse, and ran downstairs. I was just in time to leave for school. On the ride there, I erased the conversation Jason and I had had.

School was school. I avoided Nico whenever we were in the same hallway and sat with Tim at lunch only so that Nico wouldn’t catch me alone. In study hall, Jasmine helped me with history and English before she had to go talk to a teacher herself. I took the time to use one of the library computers to look up what I could about Eric Tanner.

The only thing I found was his facebook. Luckily, he had his profile on public, so I was able to find out what district he lived in. I wrote down the address and then deleted the internet history, right in time for my next class.

While waiting for Jasmine at the front of the school, I sent Jason the address from Eric’s facebook page. Jason didn’t reply, so I assumed that he was either at his day job – if he actually had one – or busy or asleep. It didn’t bother me, though, seeing as Jasmine finally exited the school.

Once again, we worked on homework together. Jasmine helped me with everything, and for that I was grateful. I wasn’t the fastest learner, but at least I would be able to, hopefully, catch up in class soon. 

“Jasmine – oh, sorry, I didn’t know we had a guest,” a woman entered the living room. I blushed. Jasmine stood up. I followed shortly after.

“Mom, this is Elle,” Jasmine introduced. “She’s a friend from school. We’re just working on homework.”

“Nice to meet you,” the woman greeted me. I smiled shyly and nodded my head in response. “My name is Carla.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said quietly, shifting nervously.

“Will you be staying for dinner?”

I was about to say no, but Jasmine’s face was practically begging me to say yes. I shrugged. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is,” Carla told me. To Jasmine, she said, “I’ll be in the kitchen. Your father and brother will be home soon.”

“Okay, Mom,” Jasmine replied. Carla left, leaving Jasmine and I alone.

“Your mom’s nice,” I said awkwardly. What was I supposed to say?

“Wanna come up to my room? I think we’re pretty much done here,” Jasmine gestured at the books and papers scattered everywhere.

“Sure.”

We placed our bags in Jasmine’s room. While she was in the bathroom, I sent a quick text to Tim, letting him know where I was. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my hands on my school skirt. Jasmine reentered the room.

“So, there’s a Halloween party tomorrow,” she said, jumping onto her bed. “Wanna come?”

I wasn’t so sure about that. I hated parties, not to mention the one time I’d gone was because of Nico. “I don’t know …”

Jasmine pouted. “Come on. It’ll be fun! A bunch of high school kids and a couple of college guys dressed up. My brother will be there, too.” I fiddled with my hands. “Please?”

Maybe Tim could come with me so I wouldn’t feel so out of place? “I guess I’ll go.” But what could I dress up as? It was really short notice, after all.

Jasmine gave me the address and the time. “I’ll be the zombie witch,” she said excitedly.

“I’ll think of something,” I said simply.

At dinner, I met Jasmine’s father. Jasmine and Chance talked about tomorrow’s Halloween party. I ate quietly, trying to avoid drawing attention to myself. Afterwards, Jasmine’s father dropped me off at the library after I insisted that that was close enough. I made my way to Wayne Manor, once again in the dark. I checked my messages on the way.

JASON: I’ll go check out the place tomorrow. I’m wiped and there’s no way you’re going alone.

I snorted. Jason tried so very hard to pretend he didn’t like me, but I could tell he cared. At least in his own way.

DICK: Fun fact time! :D

That one had been sent an hour previous. I figured that Dick could wait a little longer. When I got to the manor and changed into more comfortable clothes, Tim and I hung out. I brought up the Halloween party.

“You’re going to a party?” Tim asked skeptically.

I shrugged. “My friend wants me to go, so …”

“You don’t have to go,” Tim told me.

“I know, but I already said I would,” I sighed. “You wanna come?”

Tim seemed like he wanted to ask me something but decided against it. He nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

“We don’t have costumes,” I deadpanned. “And I’m pretty sure wearing your Robin outfit is a no.”

Tim nodded. “We have all day tomorrow to go shopping,” he suggested.

I smirked. “And waste Bruce’s valuable money?” I teased.

“What he won’t know won’t hurt him,” Tim shrugged.

“I suggest you two learn to talk about spending my money when I’m not around.”

Tim and I winced. I blushed, but was unable to wipe the smile off my face. We looked over at Bruce. Instead of being mad, though, he was smiling. It was nice to see the Bruce side of him and not the Batman side.

“One hundred dollars each,” Bruce told us. “That’s it.”

I gaped but didn’t protest. A hundred dollars for a freaking Halloween costume? That was more than enough.

I yawned, much to my embarrassment.

“Bed,” Bruce ordered me gently.

I pouted but removed my legs from Tim’s lap and stood from the couch. I bade them both goodnight, but didn’t leave before adding one more fun fact to the list: used to have a cat named BM for Batman and a kitten named Robin.

//\\\

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 31

Tim and I walked to the city. I had no idea what my costume should be, but when I saw a pair of green tights and fairy wings, I had the most ridiculous idea. I actually laughed out loud at what I was thinking, drawing many stares from bystanders. I blushed and teased Tim by not telling him what I was going to the party as.

Seriously, this was going to be the stupidest costume ever. But it was my first Halloween party, so I was going to go all out.

Later in the day, I had Alfred help me sew some details onto my costume. Alfred almost laughed at my idea. Almost.

Just before the party, I took in my appearance. I looked absolutely ridiculous, but it was strangely fun. I wore green tights, a red tank top with the Robin insignia on it, green gloves that went up past my elbows, a green tutu, white fairy wings, and black wedge heels. I laughed at my appearance. I applied green and red eye shadow and black mascara and eyeliner. I clipped fake hair onto my real hair so that I had a streak of red and a streak of green on the left side.

So, yes, I looked absolutely ridiculous as a fairy Robin, but it was fun.

Tim, dressed as a vampire cyborg, had no words for my costume.

The party was okay. I was by no means a party person, but in my silly outfit, I decided to try to enjoy myself. Jasmine and Chance met Tim. I danced. I ate food. I mostly stuck to the corner with Tim. He kept his eye on Nico, who was drinking way too much alcohol. I flinched and pushed away the memories.

I did, however, get a chance to talk to Chance one-on-one. Jasmine had dragged Tim with her to get food. Chance and I hung out. He was actually a pretty chill guy. He flirted with some of the other girls and was a bit overconfident, but he was nice to me and guarded me against Nico whenever my ex got too close.

But I was getting better at not flinching. I was getting better at talking to people. I was getting better at doing things outside of my comfort zone. And then there was, of course, Jason and my business to attend to, which I was reminded of when he sent me a text in the middle of the party.

JASON: Tomorrow. Noon. Be at my place or I’m leaving without you.


	26. Life Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle spends some time with Jason, who unintentionally triggers some flashbacks.

ELLE

Life is pretty boring if you don’t spend it with anyone. That’s why I’m trying to make friends. That’s why I’m trying to spend more time with every member of the Batfamily, plus Jason. I want to live my life to the fullest, and one step towards doing so is to have people surrounding me.

Of course, I get sidetracked a lot. And I’m not very good at balancing friends and family and Jason. But I’m trying. And trying is better than letting life just pass me by. I’m doing my best to include everyone else into my life. Easier said than done. Secrets upon secrets upon secrets weigh me down, and I’m forced to push others away.

But I’m still trying.

//\\\

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 1

I woke up late, tired from the party. It was nearing 10:20 in the morning. I rushed to get ready, ate a quick breakfast, and then told Bruce that I was hanging out with Jasmine and Chance. Bruce gave me twenty more dollars and I hurried down to the city. I bought a muffin at a small shop to break the twenty and then took the bus to near Jason’s apartment.

I let myself in. Jason didn’t look up from where he was watching television. I tossed the muffin at Jason. He didn’t even flinch.

“You’re here early,” he said, eyes glued to the screen.

I rolled my eyes. “So, we going or what?”

“Get changed.”

I did so. Already, my heart pounded in excitement. I couldn’t wait to leave.

Jason and I rode his motorcycle to about 10 minutes away from the neighborhood where Eric Tanner lived. We left his bike in an alley and then we jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Trust me, it was scary. But I was getting used to it. The adrenaline helped me get over my slight fear of heights. When we reached Eric Tanner’s house, we broke in and searched the place. Surprisingly quietly.

Eric Tanner was doing some sort of paperwork in what appeared to be his study. I narrowed my eyes and tensed. I resisted the urge to attack him. Jason and I needed to find out where he was keeping the kids. Jason and I exited the house and watched from a nearby rooftop, waiting for Eric Tanner to leave.

A good two hours later, he did. He got into one of his cars and started driving off. Jason hotwired the other car and followed. I kept a hand on my gun at all times, ready to shoot at any moment. We drove around for about thirty minutes, until we reached an unmarked building. Jason entered from the back while I entered from the front.

What I saw inside sickened me. Children, ages five to eleven or twelve, tied together with rope. Most were shaking and crying. I stuck to the shadows, knowing that while I could probably take down Eric Tanner alone, there were other grown men guarding the kids. 

I clenched my fists. Who the fuck kidnapped kids to whore them out? These men should be killed. They deserved it. I was briefly surprised by my thoughts, but stood by them. These men shouldn’t be given the opportunity to plead in front of a jury.

“This one’s pretty,” Eric Tanner eyed one of the kids, petting her hair. The girl cried harder and shut her eyes tight. “She’ll get me lots of money, I bet.”

“Hands off the kid,” Red Hood said sternly, gun aimed at Eric’s head. Eric let go quickly and tried to run away. Unfortunately for him, he ran right in my direction. Grabbing my gun out of its holster, I stepped out of the shadows, blocking the exit.

“Going somewhere, sleaze ball?” I admitted it wasn’t my best, but whatever. Besides, I was in front of children. I should probably keep my swearing down to a minimum.

“Take them! Take the children!” the coward standing in front of me begged, eyes wide with terror. I was surprised to find that I enjoyed how scared he was. Of me. And probably the gun in my hand as well.

“You think we’ll just let you get away with this?” Red Hood asked darkly, angrily, disgustedly. “You are a sorry excuse for a human being.”

“Who does this? Especially to children,” I glared.

It was then that I realized he was just a distraction. I felt someone creep up behind me. Thinking fast, I ducked and jammed my left elbow into whoever was behind me. The man doubled over but grabbed my wrists and twisted them, forcing me to drop my gun. I tried to headbutt him but he moved out of the way.

A second man came towards me. Using the man who held my wrists, I leapt up, pushing my weight into him. He struggled to keep upright. I kicked out at the man in front of me, getting him just below his throat. The kick helped me shift my weight, and the man behind me went tumbling onto his back with a pained grunt. I used his moment of weakness to free myself from his grasp and to grab my knife. I slashed at the man coming up behind me and then quickly moved so that both men were in my sight.

But then I heard the children crying, frightened even more by the fighting. I did the stupid thing and let the Elle side of me back out. I hesitated and even glanced over at them. One of the men barreled into me, sending me to the ground. I dropped my knife. He picked it up. The other man held my gun, pointing it at me. I froze.

Two gunshots sent them to the ground. I looked over at Red Hood. Even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew he was pissed with me. I quietly untied the children, who all ran out to who-knows-where. A part of me wanted to follow to make sure they’d be okay. The other part of me didn’t know what to do. So I stood there, staring at the ground and avoiding looking at the dead bodies, waiting for Jason to speak.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” he yelled at me. I flinched. Memories of Nico came to the forefront of my mind. I tried to remind myself that Jason wasn’t Nico, that he wouldn’t hit me … But I couldn’t stop myself from starting to hyperventilate.

“When you fight, you don’t fucking hesitate,” Jason spat, coming towards me. I tensed. “And what did you do? You fucking hesitated.” Jason got a little too close or a little too loud because the next thing I knew, my eyes were closed and I was bent over a little, trying to protect myself.

Silence.

Then, “Jesus Christ, kid, I’m not going to hit you.” He sounded exasperated and concerned at the same time, if that was even possible. Jason put his hands on my shoulders. I flinched violently, stepping away.

“Stop it,” I whispered hoarsely. “Please stop.” I backed away a couple of steps, my eyes still closed and my whole body shaking. I tripped and fell to the ground. Images of Nico kept flashing in front of me. “I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt me. Please.” Before I knew it, I was sobbing. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Kid,” I heard, but I didn’t hear, I couldn’t – Nico. Nico was going to hurt me. No, please, no! “Elle, look at me.”

I opened my eyes. Nico was there, yelling at me, calling me worthless and stupid and – and – I shut my eyes again and put my hands on my ears.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I’m sorry I’m stupid. I’m sorry I’m worthless. I’m sorry. Don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.”

“Elle.” The voice was firm, not Nico’s, but Nico was louder and I was scared and didn’t I get out of this relationship? “It’s Jason. Remember? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Yes, I remembered Jason, but the man in front of me was definitely Nico. I heard him call me names, shout at me, threaten to hit me if I didn’t stop crying.

“Elle, he’s not here. Nico isn’t here. You broke up with him, remember? He can’t hurt you again.”

Hesitantly, I opened my eyes. This time, I saw Jason in front of me, crouched down, an uncharacteristically concerned and serious expression on his face. Wait, when did he take off his helmet and mask? Where was I again? Nico –

“He won’t hurt you again,” Jason told me, looking into my eyes.

“But what if he tries?” I sobbed, not quite aware of my surroundings yet. Yes, I’d broken up with Nico, but how long ago was that? Weeks? Days? Hours? Minutes? Why didn’t anything make sense? What was happening to me?

“I’ll kick his sorry ass,” Jason said.

Without thinking, I leaned forward and cried into Jason’s chest. A few minutes later, I felt him wrap his arms around me tightly. I didn’t know how long I cried. All I knew was that I slowly came back into the present. I recalled that I had broken up with Nico and that he hadn’t been bothering me, that my brothers and friends were protecting me.

And then I realized that I was crying into Jason’s shirt. I broke away from him quickly and stood, wiping my eyes the best I could with the mask still on. I straightened my shirt and jacket and took a breath.

“Sorry,” I said, not looking Jason in the eye, even when he stood up. “I’m just going to go home now. I’m sure you can handle the rest of this by yourself.”

“Elle,” Jason said hesitantly, awkwardly. “If you need to talk. Or, you know, beat someone up…”

I didn’t answer. I made my way to Jason’s apartment, changed, then returned to Wayne Manor. I’d thought I was over it. I’d thought I was doing better. I guessed I thought wrong.

That night was the worst nightmare I’d had in a long time. I woke up crying and couldn’t get back to sleep. I kept seeing the images whenever I closed my eyes. The darkness closed in on me, making it difficult to breathe. I heard the voices from my nightmares, both the one I’d just had and the ones I’d been suffering for years.

Without thinking, I opened my bedroom door, but hesitated in front of Tim’s. I didn’t want to wake him up. And I didn’t want to be a bother, especially over something as stupid as a nightmare. But Tim did say that I could go to him if I needed to. Sniffing, I opened his door quietly and entered the room, closing the door behind me.

This was the first time I’d ever been in his room. I disliked being in other people’s rooms. It was like seeing who they were, stripping them down. It was their personal space. That’s why I hovered near the door for another minute before shuffling softly over to the bed, where Tim laid. I stood there, watching him sleep.

I opened my mouth, tried to get my voice to work, but was unable to. I tried a couple more times. Getting frustrated and embarrassed and ashamed, the tears started falling harder and faster. I gathered all of my inner strength and finally was able to voice out a shaky, whispered, “Tim.”

Tim didn’t wake. I bit my lip and shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I was getting antsy and frustrated and I considered just leaving. I was an embarrassment. I couldn’t handle one stupid nightmare. And then I let out a small sob by accident.

“Tim,” I tried again, still shaky and insecure and nervous and only slightly louder, but it seemed to wake up the slightly older boy.

“Mmwha?” Tim opened his eyes and stretched. My face flushed red and I avoided his gaze as he took in my appearance. “Elle? Wha’s wrong?”

I opened my mouth, but once again I’d lost my voice, so I shut my mouth once more. I let out another broken sob, though. I curled my arms around myself and shrugged.

“Did you have a nightmare?” I nodded shakily, closing my eyes, ready to be told to grow up or to go back to my room. I was surprised to hear Tim shift around in his bed. I opened my eyes to see that he’d moved over and held the sheet open for me. I bit my lip, hesitating.

“Come on.”

Tim’s gentle prompting was all it took for me to climb in bed next to him and break down crying. I laid beside him, head pressed into his chest. He rubbed my back and held me. Neither of us spoke.

//\\\

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 26

It was surprising how fast the month of November passed by. It was already Thanksgiving Day. My bruises were nearly gone. Unfortunately, my nightmares hadn’t left. They plagued me more than ever. But I refused to go to Tim unless it was a really bad nightmare. I didn’t want to appear any weaker than I already was.

Because it was Thanksgiving, Dick was visiting. He even had an extra week off after this. It was great to see him again. By the amount of hugs he kept giving me, I assumed that he’d missed me, too. 

The first term of school was nearly over. Only about a month was left. I’d raised my grades a lot, thanks to Jasmine and Tim. Bruce was proud of me, even if he didn’t outright say it. Alfred, on the other hand, did outright say it. And so did Dick, but he was, well, Dick. 

Speaking of Jasmine, I missed her during the break. But she had family coming from the Dominican Republic, who they almost never got to see, so they were spending time together. I understood, but I still missed my best friend.

And speaking of friends …

ELLE: You should come over. It’s Thanksgiving and you’re family.

JASON: Thanks but no thanks.

I sighed. Why did Bats have to be so stubborn?

ELLE: Fine. But we’re hanging out tomorrow.

JASON: You’re paying.

I grinned.


	27. Living Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle's nightmares worsen and start to affect her during the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know how to format italics into ao3 chapters, so sorry for any confusion. I put time jumps after '///\\\\\' and flashbacks between '//\\\' for this chapter.

ELLE

A living nightmare is supposed to be when someone’s “worst nightmare” – his or her fear – occurs during the day, while he or she is awake.

My living nightmare is experiencing the same bad dream almost every night, to the point where it remains in my thoughts during the waking hours.

I just can’t get a break.

///\\\\\

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 28

My nightmares worsened. I didn’t understand. To be honest, I gave up trying to. I could barely sleep at night anymore. Last night, I’d barely managed to get three hours. I’d stayed up late and set my alarm early to avoid being asleep too much. The minute I’d managed to nod off, the nightmares came back. As such, most of the night had been spent with me crying and trying not to wake up anyone.

My lack of sleep over the past month was starting to catch up to me. I was surprised I’d managed to go this long without passing out at random times of the day. Of course, the one time I nearly did pass out – not faint, pass out – was when I was jogging with Tim and Dick. Even though I was able to more or less keep up with them now – I wasn’t too far behind – I still felt myself tire much more quickly than I should have. The next thing I knew, Dick and Tim were holding onto me, preventing me from hitting the ground.

“Are you okay?” Tim asked the obvious question, so I gave the obvious answer.

“I’m fine.”

Dick shook his head. “You almost fainted.” A pause, then, “Let’s get you back inside.”

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you,” Tim spoke as he and Dick led me back to the building.

I blushed and tried to shrug it off. “I’m fine.”

“If your nightmares are getting to you –”

“I said I’m fine,” I snapped. Not that I meant to. It just came out like that.

Nonetheless, neither of them talked afterwards.

It took a while, but I finally managed to calm them down and leave me alone. The rest of the day was uneventful, although Alfred “insisted” that I go to bed early. And no one says no to Alfred.

The nightmare was so vivid and loud and real that I had to swallow a scream when I woke up. Unfortunately, it was the middle of the night. Much too early to get up, even by my standards.

It took me an hour and a half to swallow my pride and go to Tim’s room. Once again, he held me while I cried, trying to soothe me. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop my crying or my shaking. I held onto Tim like he was my lifeline. I was embarrassed and ashamed, but having a physical presence helped me to ground me, at least a little bit.

“You know, I’m no expert, but it might help to talk about your nightmares,” Tim told me.

I shook my head. “I can’t. I just … I can’t.”

“It helps,” he insisted. “Take it from someone who knows.”

I couldn’t bring the details of the nightmare to my lips. Every time I tried, my brain froze, or my voice died. Finally, I was able to whisper in a shaking voice, “It’s always my fault.”

“What is?”

I sniffed. “In my ni-nightmares. It’s always my fault.” I can’t say what it is, partially because that part was constantly changing, partly because my voice wouldn’t let me. “I can’t…I can’t save them.”

“Your family?” Tim guessed, hugging me tighter.

I nodded against his chest. “Everyone I love. Them. You. Dick. Bruce... Everyone.” I clenched my fists. “No matter what I do, I can’t save them.”

Tim didn’t say anything, just held me. A few minutes later, I added, “I’m worthless. Useless. Unwanted.” Those were the words that always stood out from my nightmares. Those were the words that described how I felt in those nightmares and, lately, in my waking hours.

“None of those things are true,” Tim told me sternly. He forced me to look him in the eye. Well, as much as was possible in the dark. “None of them.”

I tried so hard to believe him. I guessed I believed him enough to fall asleep. Unfortunately, I didn’t believe him enough to be rid of the nightmares.

///\\\\\

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 29

Everyone noticed my excessive yawning at breakfast. Alfred asked me afterwards if I’d like to have sleeping pills. Although the intention was good, I declined. There was no need to waste sleeping pills on a teenager who’s had recurring nightmares for years. Besides, I’d tried sleeping pills in the beginning. All they did was keep me asleep during my nightmares when I would usually wake up, causing them to get worse and longer.

Yeah. Not happening.

For the first half of the day, I hung out with Dick and Tim, but even they had friends outside the family, and I was soon left alone. I slumped on the couch, bored out of my mind. I sang random songs horribly out of tune while trying not to fall asleep; nightmares once every day was enough, thank you.

It was like this that Alfred found me.

“You wouldn’t happen to have something for me to do, would you?” I asked hopefully. I’d even take doing the laundry.

Alfred shook his head as he straightened the stack of DVDs on the table. “Perhaps you should go walk around the city. It would be a good idea to get some fresh air. It might help you sleep better.”

I knew it wouldn’t, but I smiled anyway. “Alright. Maybe I’ll go to the mall.”

But I didn’t want to go alone. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to be around people today. The Batfamily was out. There was no way Jason would come with me. So that left Jasmine.

ELLE: Hey, do you wanna hang out?

JASMINE: Sure! Where at?

ELLE: Mall okay?

JASMINE: Alright I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Meet at the food court?

ELLE: Sounds good.

I grabbed my purse, said goodbye to Alfred, and headed to the mall. I was a little late, but Jasmine was still there when I arrived. She waved.

“How was your Thanksgiving?” I asked.

“It was great! My abuela – my grandmother – came to visit,” Jasmine grinned. We started walking aimlessly. “I haven’t seen her in years!”

“Why?”

“Money, mostly.” Jasmine waved at a couple classmates that we passed. “Plus, she and my grandfather are very against coming here to America. They want to stay in the homeland.”

“Oh, were you born in the Dominican Republic?” I led us into a music store. We both started browsing CDs.

“No, only my brother was. I was born right here in Gotham. What about you?”

I shrugged. “Some small town you’ve probably never heard of.” I picked up a CD and pretended to express great interest in the soundtrack.

“Do you have any siblings?” Jasmine grinned. “I mean, besides Tim and whoever Bruce Wayne’s other kids are?”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Why did it suddenly feel cold? “I, uh, had a brother. Older.”

Jasmine frowned. “Had?” A pause. “What…what happened?”

//\\\

“I’m sorry, miss, but you can’t –”

“But they’re my family! Let me go! They’re alright, they have to be alright!”

“There…there were no survivors.”

“But I never got to say I’m sorry! I never got to say –”

//\\\

“Elle?”

I blinked. “Y-yeah?”

“You…kind of spaced there for a second. Are you alright?”

Embarrassed, I turned away. “Sorry. Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” I blinked back tears. No way was I going to cry about this in front of Jasmine. Or anywhere in public. I’d cried enough this year. I’d let enough people see me cry. I had to be strong.

But why had I just…had a flashback like that? I hadn’t had serious flashbacks while awake since right after the accident. Nightmares, sure. But flashbacks? Maybe I should take Alfred up on the sleeping pills offer.

The rest of the mall trip went without a hitch. I bought a book and a hat but that was it. I was back at the Manor with plenty of time before dinner. I even helped cook. But dinner itself was short so that Tim and Dick could go patrolling. Bruce went to bed early since he had an early meeting the next morning that he couldn’t miss. 

It still surprised me that Bruce did, well, Bruce-y stuff and slept like a normal person.

I, on the other hand, didn’t sleep. I quickly had another nightmare. I tried to get back to sleep on my own, but the darkness crept around me, smothering me, killing me. I was scared. I wanted to go over to Tim’s room, but he was still out in the city as Robin. But staying in my room was killing me. I felt my over exhausted mind going crazy. I needed to get out. I needed to ground myself, somehow.

I grabbed my pillow and snuck downstairs. I sat on the couch, clutching the pillow to my body. I sobbed my heart out, convinced that no one could hear me. I hid my head in the pillow and rocked back and forth. The pillow didn’t help ground me very much, and it was still dark, just more open. I needed to calm myself, get ahold of myself, before I got any worse.

“Hush little baby, don’t say a word. M-mama’s gonna buy you a mocking bird,” I sang quietly, pitifully, sorrowfully to myself between sniffs and sobs, not even sure if that was the beginning of the song or even the right lyrics. “I-if that mocking bird won’t sing…” What came next? “M-mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.” I hugged the pillow tighter. “If that diamond ring turns brass, Mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass.”

I stiffened when I felt a hand on my back. I glanced back fearfully, guiltily, shamefully. Bruce stood there with a flashlight. I blinked in the sudden light, waiting for my eyes to adjust a bit. I was suddenly aware of how crazy I must look to him. Sobbing, holding a pillow, singing a lullaby to herself…I was probably just as crazy as some of the people in Arkham.

“Do you…need to talk?” Bruce asked.

I faced away from him and hid my face in the pillow. I shivered, suddenly reminded that it was November. A light blanket was draped over me. The couch dipped as Bruce sat.

“I’m s-sorry for w-waking you,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’ll be quiet now. I promise.”

Bruce was silent for a minute. When he spoke, he was quiet.

“I had nightmares when my parents died, too,” he said. “It helped to talk to Alfred about them. But, you know, you can … talk to me …”

I almost smiled at how awkward and unsure he sounded. Almost.

Instead, I stayed quiet. So did Bruce. It was driving me crazy. Trying to keep my sadness at bay was making me feel ready to explode. I was frozen to my seat, and Bruce wasn’t leaving. Eventually, I cracked. I sobbed my heart out. Bruce held me close. 

I couldn’t talk about the nightmares, yet. I didn’t know if I ever would. But there was one thing that had stuck with me all these years, something that had come up today when I was at the mall earlier today.

//\\\

“But I never got to say I’m sorry! I never got to say –”

//\\\

“I never got to say goodbye.”


	28. Life in the Fast Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to be going good for Elle. Until they're not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: language, violence

ELLE

Things really seem to be turning around. I’m becoming more comfortable with my soon-to-be family. I’ve become Red Hood’s partner, sidekick, whatever. I’ve made friends outside of the Batfamily. Sure, I still get teased a bit at school, and my nightmares are awful, but overall, life is good.

But perhaps I’m focusing on the fun stuff – being Cougar, hanging out with others – too much. Maybe I should focus on actually overcoming my family’s death, something I should have done years ago but haven’t. Now that I have the support system I need.

…Or maybe not.

//\\\

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 30

It was the last day of break and I was going to make the most of it. I grabbed an energy bar and then hurried to meet Jason for another training session. Unfortunately, because he no longer held back when we sparred, I kept getting my butt kicked.

After training, I showered at his apartment, grabbed a bite to eat, and then looked at my text messages, Jason grumbling the entire time about how I needed to start paying for his water bill.

JASMINE: Chance and I are going go-karting today. Wanna come with?

Now, this was something that could be fun. And it could be a good way for both Dick and Tim, and Chance and Jasmine to hang out at the same time with me.

ELLE: Can my adopted brothers come?

“That better not be another boyfriend,” Jason said, glaring at my phone from where he was reclining on the sofa. I rolled my eyes.

“Relax, genius, it’s just a friend,” I replied. And then I had a thought. Jason was also one of my adopted brothers-to-be. And even though he didn’t get along with the other Batboys, well, maybe he’d like to hang out? “You want to go go-karting with us?”

Jason snorted. “Nah, kid. I’ve got better things to do.”

“Suit yourself.” It was probably a good idea he didn’t go, anyway.

JASMINE: Sure! That’d be fun!

I bade Jason goodbye as I texted Dick and Tim, both of whom agreed to go-karting.

I ended up winning, mostly because Dick and Tim were too busy trying to one-up the other, Jasmine somehow spun out onto the grass, and Chance was just a crappy racer.

That happened three times before everyone realized that go-karting wasn’t working as well it should be. Well, I was having fun beating them, but still.

The five of us decided to hang at McDonalds for a while. Afterwards, we went our separate ways.

That night, I snuck out after the Batboys had left already. I was excited to do some patrolling with Jason again. It was quiet, though, and I was quickly becoming bored. 

“A dumbass just kidnapped a kid,” Jason said over the communications device he’d … acquired … for us. “I just missed him.” He gave me the street he was on and I headed – by rooftop, and boy was that frightening – to try to catch up with him. Luckily, the kidnapper had no idea he was being followed and was going at a normal speed.

Jason shot out the tires of the vehicle. The car crashed into a lamppost. I heard a child screaming and crying inside it. Jason headed for the front seat while I went for the back. While Jason yelled and pulled out the man, I reached for the young child.

“Hey, come on, sweetie,” I said as nicely as I could. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” The child continued crying and mouthing the word ‘help.’ Jason was now beating the shit out of the kidnapper a few feet away from the car. “You wanna see your mommy and daddy? Yeah? You want that?” The boy nodded and reached for me.

I took him out of the car, careful to shield his eyes from the fight. Unfortunately, in doing so, I had my back facing them, so I had no idea that Jason had been kicked in the crotch and suckerpunched in the face. I had no idea that the kidnapper had a weapon of his own. I had no idea that he was coming back for the child – what the importance of one small child to a man who was just attacked by vigilantes? Shouldn’t he just run away and hope we can’t track him?

I was caught by surprise when I was hit out of the way. I tried to protect the child in my arms. He wiggled out of my grasp and tried to run. I turned my attention to the kidnapper, who held a gun in his hand. I kicked him in the wrist and in the stomach. I reached for my knife and slashed at his arms. Jason shouted as he ran at the kidnapper, arm cocked. The man raised the gun at me, but I hit his arm out of the way.

He pulled the trigger.

A thump.

Silence.

Everyone froze.

I turned.

The child.

The child was dead.

Killed by a stray bullet.

A lucky stray bullet.

No.

An unlucky stray bullet.

From a gun.

Held by an unlucky man.

An unlucky man who had just killed a child.

Before I knew it, I’d drawn my own gun and shot the man in the head.

And it felt…good.

The man fell. Neither Jason nor I bothered to catch him. I watched as he fell. I watched the blood pool around him.

I felt …

No regret. No regret at all. Just excitement and adrenaline and anger and a sense that justice had been served. A life for a life.

Jason put a hand on my shoulder. “You okay, kid? First one’s the hardest.”

“Yeah,” I said, tearing my eyes off the body. “I feel fine. And that’s the scary thing. I don’t regret it. Shouldn’t I? I just took a life, but I don’t regret it.”

“Shut up, you’re rambling.” I clenched my jaw shut. “Maybe it’ll hit you later, maybe not. It doesn’t matter. He was a criminal, okay? He deserved it.”

Right. He deserved it. I knew that. I knew that all too well as I glanced over at the child that I had almost managed to save.


	29. Life or Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle struggles with her own morals after killing someone.

ELLE

Life or death. Shouldn’t it be life and death? After all, everyone dies eventually, whether it’s by old age, or illness, or being hit by a bus. So why is the argument always for one or the other? They go hand-in-hand, more so when you’re the one with the power.

I don’t know why, but I still don’t regret killing that man. Like Jason said, he was a criminal. A criminal who killed a child. Who gave that man the right to kill an innocent? I should have the right to take away the life of a criminal, then, right?

He deserved it.

Right?

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 1

I could hear them whispering everywhere I went. In the halls, in the classrooms, in the library, in the cafeteria. I did my best not to fidget, to keep up a poker face. I had to keep reminding myself that no one knew it was me. No one knew that I was Cougar. No one knew that it had been me who’d killed someone last night.

And yet, I constantly had to stop myself from glancing over my shoulder whenever someone mentioned me.

Rumors spread like wildfire throughout the school, as they were wont to do. I heard everything from “Cougar’s badass” to “Cougar’s a murderer” to “I heard she’s the Joker’s assassin.” Yes, I actually heard that last one. I was glad no one really believed that rumor.

Besides, most people were caught up in the debate I’d been having with myself all night: was I a hero? Or a murderer?

The other students seemed pretty split on that as well. Some said I’d done the right thing – “one less pervert on the street” – while others said I’d done the wrong thing – “she should have just taken him to the police!” – while still others tried to stay somewhere in the middle – “she shouldn’t have killed him, but at least he’s not a threat anymore.”

The whispers did nothing to help me figure out my own thoughts.

I felt like I was going through an identity crisis. Who knew, maybe I was. I’d always liked Jason – the Red Hood – because he was willing to do what was necessary to get criminals off the street. I’d always criticized Bruce – Batman – for not doing so, and then crazies like the Joker kept escaping, and the cycle goes on and on until one of them dies.

But just because I’d always agreed more with Jason’s ideas didn’t mean that I’d wanted to go around killing people. Intimidate? Sure. Injure? Sure. But I’d never even considered that I would be the one pulling the trigger.

I’d always had that line. It had been blurry at best, and I’d known that, but it had still been there. I’d danced along it but I’d never crossed it. Until last night.

And I still didn’t regret it.

See, that was what was getting to me. I’d crossed a line I’d made for myself. I should be freaking out. I should be crying and apologizing. Maybe even stop being a vigilante altogether. Instead, I felt the opposite. I felt powerful. I felt excited. I felt like I’d done the world a favor. I wanted to do it again. Just to the criminals, of course, but I still wanted to. I wasn’t scared to.

And that scared me.

I knew that killing was a slippery slope. I was afraid that if I started killing criminals all willy-nilly like Jason, then I’d end up being a criminal myself. I liked the power – the control – of having someone’s life in my hands. What if someday I ended up losing control of myself and ended up killing innocents? What if I ended up locked up in Arkham myself?

“Hey, you okay?”

I startled out of my thoughts. I looked up from my blank homework sheet to see Jasmine. I scooted over. She sat down next to me.

“I’m just a bit … shook up,” I replied as truthfully but vaguely as I could.

“Oh, about the Cougar thing?” I nodded. “I think it’s horrible. I hope the police arrest her.”

I scoffed. “What? You think she did a bad thing?”

Jasmine smiled at me, although her brow furrowed, as if she wasn’t sure what to make of me. “She killed someone. That’s bad.”

Well, she didn’t have to emphasize it. I knew the difference between good and bad. Mostly. Except that this was definitely a gray area. “But the guy kidnapped and then killed a kid. I say he deserved it.”

“No one deserves death. Only God should decide that. Cougar had no right to take his life away.”

“And he had the right to take away a child’s life?” I struggled to keep my voice down after a few wayward kids glanced over at me. “What? Was that his time, according to ‘God’?”

“It was unfortunate, but –”

I stood up and collected my books. “No. Just, no. Don’t you dare say what I think you’re about to say. I won’t hear it.” As I shouldered my bad and turned to leave, I added, “If more vigilantes killed criminals like Red Hood and Cougar do, then Gotham wouldn’t have to live in fear all the time.”

“Those two aren’t any better than the criminals they go after,” I heard Jasmine snap. “At least Batman and Robin turn them over to the police.”

“Right, because Batman and Robin are so perfect,” I hissed, stomping away.

Tim pestered me about my behavior all the way back to the Manor. I ignored him and Alfred, opting to glaring out the window. As soon as the car stopped, I raced to my room, locked the door behind me, and laid face-down on my bed, screaming into my pillow.

I’d done nothing wrong.

I should be a hero. People should be praising me. I didn’t want to be the next Batman, but I did want some recognition in some sort of positive light.

I wasn’t a villain.

I desperately wished I had someone to talk to about this as tears of frustration and anger streamed onto my pillow. Bruce, Tim, and Dick were obviously out. Jason wouldn’t care, at least, not in the way I needed currently. He’d tell me to toughen up. No hugs and ‘it’s all right’s for me. Jasmine was definitely not an option, and probably Chance as well.

I had no one to turn to, so I just laid on my bed and cried.

I didn’t know how long I stayed in my room, but eventually I got bored and ventured into the hallway. No one. After my frustrating day, I needed social interaction with my future family, even though I couldn’t talk about what was really on my mind. It took me a while – the Manor is huge – but I finally figured out that everyone was in the Batcave.

I was about halfway down the stairs when I heard my name mentioned. Not my vigilante name, but my name. My heart skipped a beat. Why were they talking about me? And behind my back, no less? Had they found out that I was Cougar? Were they planning to arrest me?

I tiptoed down a couple more stairs so that I could hear better, although I still had to strain my ears a bit.

“–n’t tell her,” Bruce was saying.

“Why not?” Dick demanded. “If I was in her place, I’d want to know.”

“Technically –” Tim started, but something – probably someone glaring at him – cut him off. “Okay, okay, but really. We shouldn’t keep this from her.”

“Her mind’s already broken up about what she thought happened,” Bruce said. “This would absolutely devastate her.”

“What, like make her snap?” Tim sounded appalled.

I didn’t understand. What were they talking about? What were they keeping from me? I was grateful that Dick and Tim seemed to support telling me the truth, but still. They were having a meeting behind my back. And Bruce seemed to think that whatever information they knew would make me go crazy.

I had to know more, but I couldn’t see anything. I carefully made my way down a few more steps so that I could see the large computer screen in its entirety, making sure I was in the position to hide if the need came.

I didn’t like thinking that I had to hide from them. I already hid my vigilante life from them. I’d hidden … him … from them. On second thought, maybe hiding wasn’t such a bad thing.

The computer screen showed several online and scanned copies of newspaper articles. I scanned the large headlines first. My heart was in my throat. I recognized those headlines. My eyes ventured to the pictures shown. My face. The faces of my family. My still-burning house.

“But they’re my family! Let me go! They’re alright, they have to be alright!”

“We can’t keep this from her, Bruce!” Dick shouted, thankfully pulling me out of my flashback. My hands felt clammy. I couldn’t breathe. I clenched and unclenched my hands. I forced myself to look away from the computer screen and to focus on what the Batfamily had to say.

And what, exactly, did Bruce want to keep from me? It was a fire. My family died. End of story.

But suddenly I wasn’t so sure.

“She’s never recovered from losing her family,” Bruce responded. “Do you want to be the one that causes her mind to completely crack?”

He really thought I’d turn crazy.

I probably would if I didn’t get answers immediately.

“And besides, I’m not completely sure,” Bruce went on.

“But …” Tim prompted.

“But it seems very unlikely that the fire was an accident.”

I gaped. I’d thought my life couldn’t get any worse. It just had.

Someone had murdered my family.

Someone had murdered my family.

I didn’t wait to hear what else they had to say. I quietly made my way back to the main floor. I raced past Alfred, shouting back about how I’d forgotten to do an important research assignment and was going to the library.

It wasn’t technically a lie. I was going to the library. And I was going to do some important research. It just wasn’t for school.

Using the computers at the library meant that I didn’t have to worry about the Batfamily walking in on me. I also had a habit of leaving tabs open on my laptop. At the library, I was a lot more careful about what I left in the internet history, much less what was open.

I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, even as I read and re-read article after article after article. I wasn’t Bruce or Tim. I wasn’t an amazing detective. And, unfortunately, it showed when I had no proof of Bruce’s claim. But he’d had to have gotten the idea that it was a murder and not an accident from somewhere. I just didn’t know where to look.

As much as I hated it, I needed help.

ELLE: Can you do me a favor?

When I didn’t receive a response straight away, I went back to the articles. I couldn’t find anything within the articles themselves. Everything seemed to check out. Fire, me not home, blah blah blah. I fought against my shaking hands and pounding heart with every word I read, but I desperately needed to know.

If my family had been killed, then I wanted to know who did it.

It was getting late, so I erased my internet history and started walking back to the Manor. It was then that I finally received an answer to my text.

JASON: If it’s important enough, I’ll see what I can do.


	30. Life Goes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Elle talks to a lot of people about a lot of different things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time everyone, and I apologize for that! Bad news: I will definitely not be completing this story. Good news: I found four more chapters that I wrote out years ago. So enjoy the next couple chapters before I lay this story to rest. Thank you everyone for your support!

ELLE

It’s funny how quickly people move on. Just yesterday, everyone was talking about me. Today, a majority of people are back to normal: complaining about tests, laughing at each other, talking back to teachers. What I did is still a conversation starter, but it’s no longer a hot topic. They’ve moved on.

But I haven’t. In fact, I think that I just sank in deeper. Finding out that my family’s death might have been murder, well, that isn’t going to be leaving my thoughts for a long time, if ever. I need to find out the truth. I need to know that, if it was a murder, the guy who did it is behind bars.

If he isn’t, well, let’s just say I don’t care as much about the gray area as I have the last couple of days.

//\\\

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 2

I was still mad at Jasmine, but I didn’t want to be. Besides, I craved the presence of someone I didn’t live with. So, after putting it off until gym class, I finally apologized to Jasmine. Luckily, she accepted and apologized right back. We decided to agree to disagree. I hoped that would hold up. I didn’t want to lose a friend over something like this.

After school, I went to Jasmine’s house for a tutoring session. The tutoring itself only lasted until dinner time. Afterwards, the two of us and Chance played video games. It wasn’t until I received a text from Bruce asking why I wasn’t home yet that I realized it was getting late.

“You should stay over sometime,” Jasmine said to me as I packed my bag. 

“It would have to be a Friday or a Saturday,” I replied. “Bruce is really into the whole ‘get good grades’ thing.”

“Do you want a ride home?” Chance asked. I was about to say no, but when I realized just how dark it was outside, I thought better of it.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Jasmine hugged me goodbye, and Chance and I went to his car.

“Nico hasn’t been giving you a hard time or anything, has he?” Chance asked. He was trying to keep his voice light, but the slight frown and how tight he was holding the steering wheel gave him away.

I rubbed my arm. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

It was quiet for a few minutes before I couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “So do you have a girlfriend?”

“Why, you interested?” Chance smirked.

I let out a breath of laughter. “No, no. Sorry, but no. I’m just curious.”

“Well, in that case, yes, I have a girlfriend. We’ve been dating for four years.”

I tilted my head. “Really? How old are you, then?” I’d guessed that he was nineteen years old, maybe twenty. I didn’t really believe in the ‘high school sweethearts’ thing, so maybe he was actually older than that?

“I’m twenty-one.”

I quickly did the math. “So…you guys have been dating since you were seventeen?” Huh. I guess some people really did have ‘high school sweethearts.’

“That’s right.”

“Are you going to marry her?”

Chance grinned over at me. “You’re sure talkative today.” I raised an eyebrow. “Alright, alright. I really want to propose to her, but I want everything to be perfect, you know?”

I nodded. “I’m probably the last person who should give you advice, but do something she’ll enjoy. And if you’ve been dating for so long, there’s no way she’ll say no.” At least, I didn’t think so. I didn’t even know the girl.

“Yeah, that won’t be hard at all,” Chance teased, but I could hear the nervous waver in his voice.

“What’s her name? How’d you guys meet?” I hoped I wasn’t being nosy, but I didn’t really know that much about Chance.

“Her name’s Melissa.” A smile donned Chance’s face. “We went to middle school together, and we did a couple of group projects together, but it wasn’t until high school that we started talking. We started hanging out when we realized how much we had in common. We eventually realized that we’d fallen in love with each other, and that’s that.”

“Let me guess. A handsome guy like you went for the cheerleader? Or the volleyball player?” I teased. I wasn’t being serious, but I wanted to know more about this Melissa person. Chance was my friend and I wanted to know who it was who made him happy.

Chance chuckled. “At first, that’s who I dated. But Melissa’s not an athlete. She’s … well, she’s Melissa. What else can I say?”

I grinned. “I’m going to have to meet her someday. Maybe propose to her for you, since you’re obviously too shy.”

“Me? Shy? Have you met me?” Chance laughed. “But okay. I’ll introduce you guys sometime. But she goes to school out of state, so you’ll have to wait until she comes back on break.”

“I can’t wait. Oh, you can just let me off here.” We were coming up to the library.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I can walk from here.”

We said our goodbyes and that was that. On my way up to the Manor, I decided to text Jason.

ELLE: Did you find anything yet?

JASON: Not yet. I’ll let you know when I do.

I hoped so. He’d better.

A few hours after falling asleep, I woke up from another nightmare. I was embarrassed about needing to sleep in Tim’s room so much, so I was adamant about not doing so for one night. Unfortunately, I felt suffocated and terrified in my own room. I went out into the hall and sat against the wall, hugging my knees up to my chest. I just sobbed my eyes out.

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” I stiffened when I heard Dick’s voice. I buried my face in my knees, refusing to let him see me cry. I heard him kneel down in front of me. “Come on, you can tell me.”

After some more coaxing, I finally looked up at him. He opened his arms in invitation, which I took. I sobbed into his shirt, scared and embarrassed as always.

“It’s cold out here,” Dick said. “Let’s head into your room, yeah?”

We went into my room. I sat on the edge of my bed, Dick beside me. He held me for a while longer. Even when I’d stopped being hysterical, I didn’t leave the comfort of his arms, and I was grateful that he didn’t let go.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Dick asked.

I shook my head, but a few minutes later, I found myself speaking. “His name was Bobby.” I took a shaky breath. “He and I didn’t always get along. We fought and argued a lot more than we should have, but when it came down to it, we loved each other. We were family.”

“You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“Whatever, princess.”

Silence.

Another shaky breath.

“He was two years older than me, but people used to think we were twins, we looked so much alike.” A choked sob. “One time, we actually pretended to be twins. We got in trouble for it, but it was worth it. That was one of the few times we got along so well.”

“I swear, if we get called twins one more time…”

“You just don’t like that you look like a girl.”

“Hey!”

Sniff.

Cough.

“My parents always argued with each other. I’d sometimes try to get them to stop. Bobby told me to stay out of it, in, well, ruder ways. Sometimes he’d get into arguments with my dad, too. But when I asked my dad, he just told me not to worry about it.”

“But why, Daddy? You’re the awesome-ist!”

“Thanks, kiddo. Now how about we go take those training wheels off?”

“Okay!”

A long silence.

“The morning of the fire, I’d gotten into an argument with my parents. I wanted to know why they always fought, why Bobby and Dad didn’t get along. Neither of them would tell me, so I got mad.”

“Why can’t you tell me? I’m not a kid! I deserve to know why my family hates each other!”

“It’s just grown-up stuff.”

“Then why does Bobby know? What, am I too ‘innocent’?”

Tears slipped down my face.

Dick tightened his hold on me.

“I was in such a bad mood and so angry that I took it out on Bobby, too. We didn’t talk on the bus or anything. I spent all day feeling guilty about everything. I was going to apologize, but I had to stay after school for math help. And when I got home …”

“I’m sorry, miss, but you can’t –”

“But they’re my family! Let me go! They’re alright, they have to be alright!”

“There…there were no survivors.”

“But I never got to say I’m sorry! I never got to say goodbye!”

“…They were gone.”

//\\\

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 3

Another uneventful day. At least Dick didn’t mention anything about last night. He just held me until I fell asleep, and when I woke up this morning, he was gone.

In my last class, I received a text from Jason, saying how he might have gotten a lead that could tell us if the fire was an accident or not. I told Tim that I was going to Jasmine’s house again, then hung out inside the school until I was sure he and Alfred had left. When I exited the building, I headed over to where Jason was waiting for me.

“I hope Tim didn’t see you,” I told him.

“Relax, kid, I’m not stupid,” Jason replied. I put my helmet on, and away we went. We stopped by his apartment to change and then headed towards our target. I felt my mood sink as we neared the house. I was scared and angry about what we’d find out.

Jason kicked in the door to the house. A balding man came yelling nonsense at us. At least, he did until Red Hood slammed him into a wall, gun to his temple.

“Now, let’s make this nice and easy,” Red Hood growled. “Three years ago, a family was killed in a fire. Last name Edwards.”

“I d-don’t know what your t-talking about!” the man squeaked.

“You knew David Edwards,” Red Hood said. “Now, what do you know about his death?”

I was confused. Who was this guy? How would he know anything? But as the man kept blubbering nonsense, I grew impatient. I wanted answers, and I wanted answers now.

“Hey, answer him or I’m going to have to ensure that you will never reproduce again,” I said angrily, cocking my gun.

The man gulped. “Okay, okay! I’ll tell you!”

“Tell us what, exactly?” Red Hood demanded.

“It was planned! The fire, the deaths, all of it! B-but I didn’t want any part of it, you know! I was completely against it! I tried to stop –”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s the case,” Red Hood hissed. He threw the man onto the floor. The man tried to crawl away, but I stepped in front of him. My entire body shook with rage.

“Why?” I ground out. When I received no answer, I kicked him a few times, as hard as I could. “I asked you why!”

“I d-don’t know!”

“Don’t give me that shit!” I kicked at him some more. Red Hood punched him in the nose a few times.

“I-I’m telling the t-truth! I don’t know why!”

“Then tell me who did it!” I screamed in outrage. The man tried to get away, but Red Hood beat him up a bit more for me. “Tell me who!”

“I don’t know! I don’t –”

I shoved my gun into his face. “Tell me who did it. Now.”

“I don’t – Steve Irwin. He was a part of it. He knows more than I do. God, please don’t kill me. I won’t tell anyone. I won’t –”

BANG.


	31. Fight Fire with Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Two: Heart and Fire
> 
> Now that Elle’s discovered the truth about her family’s death, she will stop at nothing to bring the murderer to justice.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 4

I’d always had some difficulty concentrating in school, but now my thoughts surrounded what I should do about, well, tracking down the guy who murdered my family. Yesterday, I’d been angry and ready to do anything to get justice, but now I was having some doubts. The general population of Gotham – including my future family, excluding Jason – believed that Cougar was a killer. A criminal. Not to mention, I was afraid of how willing I was to kill who did it.

Killing’s a slippery slope.

But it was only twice so far. And one more time, whenever I get my hands on who killed my family. And then I’d be done with it. No more killing for me.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in the school library with Jasmine for our study hall. Even while she was trying to help me learn chemistry, I couldn’t concentrate. I looked up and, upon seeing Tim at the opposite side of the library with his own friends, I decided to ask Jasmine her thoughts.

“If someone killed your family, and you could do something about it, would you?” I cut her off.

Jasmine looked startled at my sudden question. “Um, I don’t know. Why?”

“It’s a hypothetical question,” I persisted. “Like, would you let the person go? Would you go after him?”

Jasmine seemed to be questioning my sanity as she eyed me carefully. She must not have found anything she was looking for since she shrugged and said, “I’m not sure.”

“Oh,” I said, disappointed.

“But I’d have to say I’d do all that I could to bring the guy to justice.”

Justice. Right. Well, killing the killer was justice, right? At least for me. And who knew how many other people’s lives I’d save by getting rid of this one guy. So it was okay. Jasmine just basically said the same thing.

I ignored the part of me that said that Jasmine was against killing people, even criminals.

After school, I secretly went to meet up with Jason. We trained outside despite the cold weather. I put more than my all into sparring. I wasn’t training to have fun anymore. I was training for a purpose.

//\\\

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 5

I spent half of my day at the public library, collecting all the information I could on my family’s death and on Derek Irwin. I put the information on a flash drive I’d purchased recently and then headed back to the Manor. Of course, as soon as I was there, I continued my research on my laptop, but from the safety of my own room. I knew it was risky, but I couldn’t stay away.

I had to know.

There still wasn’t anything from the articles themselves that I could pick out, so I turned my attention to Derek Irwin. Luckily for me, he had a public facebook account. Divorced twice – seriously, who puts that on the internet? – currently unmarried. No children. Likes the Patriots and the Yankees.

But what I found odd was that he didn’t list where he worked. If he put other sensitive information on the internet, then why wouldn’t he put where he was employed? I went through his posts, but he never talked about work. He didn’t seem to have facebook connected to a mobile phone, either, so I couldn’t get even relative areas of where he’s gone.

Although he didn’t put his place of employment, he did put his hometown. It wasn’t too far from Gotham. Jason and I could get there in a couple of hours, get the information we need, and be back in Gotham – and me back in my bed – before it was time to get up.

“What are you so focused on?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard Bruce’s voice. I carefully shifted the screen away from his eyes as I sat up to face him.

“My homework load is getting heavier,” I replied smoothly. “I have a research project to do. I thought it was due today, but it wasn’t. So now I’m trying to do better work this time.”

Shut up, shut up, you’re rambling! I scolded myself.

Bruce furrowed his brow. Oh no, had he seen through something I’d said?

“You’re still getting tutored by that girl, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. We’re actually working together on this assignment. She’s working on one part, I’m working on the other.”

Bruce nodded. I was pretty sure he decided not to question why I couldn’t have just asked Jasmine if the ‘project’ was due today or not instead of going out to the library a couple days ago.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he left. That had been way too close.

ELLE: I can’t find much about Irwin. You?

JASON: You check his facebook page?

ELLE: Yep. No place of employment or home address.

JASON: You know where you dad worked?

I huffed.

ELLE: No idea. I was never told anything.

JASON: Well, I found an article you might wanna look at. You have an e-mail I can send it to?

I gave him my e-mail address. A few minutes later, I received the article. Basically, a couple of people had gone to the police and the press about some sort of illegal activity going on in their company. They refused to say the company name in the article, but I recognized one of the names: Derek Irwin.

ELLE: He knew something.

JASON: Meet up Monday.

I hesitated. I had school, and I really was having difficulty again, but…

ELLE: Where and when?


	32. Pants on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red Hood and Cougar pay a visit to Derek Irwin.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 7

Today was the day. Jason and I were going to meet up and track down Derek Irwin. Yesterday, we’d successfully found the man’s address. I’d planned how I could skip school for today, so yesterday I pretended to have a cough and the beginning of a sore throat. That way, today, it would be completely plausible that I was sick.

I woke up a little earlier than normal so that I could make myself look sick. I put hot water on my face to make it red and warm. To help increase my body temperature, I did jumping jacks as quietly as I could. Then I crawled back into bed.

When it became apparent that I wasn’t going down to breakfast, Dick came in to get me. I made a bit of a show of ‘not feeling well,’ groaning and shivering and curling up into a ball, as if I had a stomachache. Dick placed a hand on my forehead, which, luckily, was still warm.

“Aww, you really don’t want me to leave, do you?” Dick teased softly, brushing my ‘sweaty’ hair out of my face. I felt a pang of regret when I remembered that Dick was going back to Bludhaven today.

“’M sorry,” I murmured as croaky as I could sound without it being obvious I was faking.

“Don’t worry about it, sis,” Dick said quietly. “You go to sleep. I’ll tell the others you’re not going to school.”

“When’re you leaving?” I asked.

“Right after breakfast.”

Okay. So I had to pretend to be sick for a couple more hours so Bruce, Tim, and Dick wouldn’t be in the house. But what about Alfred?

“’M gonna miss you,” I said truthfully.

“Hey, you can call or text me,” Dick reminded me. “I’m not that far away.” He placed a kiss to my temple. “Get some sleep.”

I pretended to sleep ‘off and on’ for a couple of hours. Finally, it was just me and Alfred in the Manor. I was trying to think of a way to get rid of him, or an excuse as to why he couldn’t come into my room. But it ended up that I didn’t need to worry.

“I need to go do errands, Miss Elle,” Alfred told me quietly. “Will you be alright here by yourself for a couple of hours?”

I nodded ‘sleepily.’ “Yeah. That’s fine.” I paused. A couple of hours wasn’t going to be enough. “If I’m still asleep when you get back, can you not wake me up?” Oh, geez. That sounded rude. “I mean –”

“No, that’s quite alright,” Alfred said. “I understand. I will stay out of your room, but I will be checking in on you when it’s dinner time.”

I grinned. “Sounds good.”

When I was sure that he’d left and wasn’t going to return, I leapt out of bed, pulled on clothes and shoes, and raced down into the city where Jason was going to meet me. Of course, after that, we had to stop by his apartment so we could change. Precious minutes wasted.

Luckily, with Jason’s speed on his motorcycle, we made it to Derek Irwin’s house in no time. We, as usual, made an entrance. Derek Irwin tried to hide in his bathroom. As if one more lock could keep us out.

He tried running several times. Each time, Red hood would punch him or slam him into the wall. I was a bit ticked off that he did that for me, but I had the more important part: interrogation.

Red Hood forced Irwin into a chair. I stood in front of him, eyes narrowed.

“Now, I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them,” I threatened.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take orders from you,” Irwin replied.

I nicked his cheek with my knife. “Yes, you will, if you know what’s good for you.”

Irwin didn’t answer that time, eying the knife in my hand. I took that as my cue to ask my questions. Or, rather, question. Red Hood, having more experience at this sort of thing than me, told me to focus on one question that we need answered. We both decided that finding out where Irwin worked was the priority.

“What company do you work at?” I asked. No answer. “Where’s it located? What do you do?”

No answer.

Red Hood stepped forward, cocking his gun. “You better answer the lady.”

Irwin spat blood in my face. I punched him. I heard a crack as his nose broke.

“Try again,” I growled.

“Fuck you,” Irwin replied. “I’m not saying anything.”

“That’s funny, because you went to the police and the press about your company doing illegal manufacturing, or something, yes?”

Silence.

A cry of pain as I sank my knife into his shoulder.

“Yes?” I insisted.

“Please stop,” he begged. “Please!”

“That’s not what I want to hear!” I shouted, pulling the knife out, only to stab his forearm. Irwin screamed.

“Trevor Corporation!” he managed to say. “It’s called the Trevor Corporation!”

I sneered. “Thank you for your cooperation.” With that said, I slashed his neck.

To Jason, I said, “I’ll check out the website.”

“Kid –”

“I’m fine.”

After another long ride and me using Jason’s shower, I was finally back at the Manor. I snuck in through my bedroom window, hoping that Alfred had kept his word and not entered. I also hoped that he’d passed the message on to Tim. And Bruce, too, if he was home.

I wanted to start researching right away, but I decided to keep appearances instead. I made sure I looked like I’d just gotten out of bed before making my way downstairs for dinner.

“Hey, you feeling any better?” Tim asked.

I shrugged. “A lot better than this morning. Still feel a bit off, though.”

Alfred had made me chicken noodle soup, which I had two and a half bowls of before heading back up to my room. Finally, I started doing the new round of research.

Or rather, I tried to. I couldn’t find it anywhere. It didn’t even come up as a result on Google, Bing, Yahoo … nothing. It was like it didn’t exist. I even tried putting in addresses into the box up top: trevor.com; trevorcorporation.com; trevorcorp.org … I couldn’t figure it out.

“They’re good,” I murmured to myself. “And careful … Too careful. There’s gotta be a slip somewhere.” There just had to be.

Figuring that the site address would be the only way to get to a website, assuming there was one, I kept trying different addresses. Funnily enough, it was because I’d misspelled ‘Trevor’ that I got a hit.

I’d found the website, all right. It was all science-y mumbo jumbo on the main page that I didn’t understand. Of course, the main page was all I could access. I needed a password for the rest of the site, even the ‘about us’ page.

Yeah, like that wasn’t suspicious.

I tried password after password, but no luck. I was surprised that, with how careful these people were, they didn’t have a ‘locked out after three wrong passwords’ thing that, say, banks had. Lucky me.

But I couldn’t get on the website. Tired and frustrated, I decided to go to bed. Maybe Jason would have more luck than me.


	33. Heart's Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle does some research.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 8

It was snowing when I woke up. Also, freezing. I’d gotten by okay with just sweaters so far, but I seriously needed a winter coat now. And boots. And a hat. And gloves. Winter stuff in general. So when I went down for breakfast, I asked Bruce if I could borrow some money. He, as usual, gave me way more than I needed.

I had no idea how I was supposed to pay him back. Note to self: get a job.

I decided that I would go to the mall after school to purchase these items. And maybe some arm-warmers or something for my Cougar outfit. Alfred offered to drive me over to the mall so that he could take my backpack home for me. I agreed.

Jasmine was her usual excitable self, so I invited her along. She agreed and said that we could go to her place afterwards for a couple hours. To keep up appearances, and because of the block I’d hit trying to access the Trever website, I thought it would be a good idea.

We spent a couple of hours in the mall. I got my winter supplies, plus a desperately-needed haircut. Jasmine also stocked up on winter clothes. She spent some time in Hot Topic –flirting with one of the workers, I noted when I finally found her – while I was at the hair salon.

Chance picked us up and drove us to their house, seeing as he had to drive past the mall on his way home from class anyway. We hung out and played video games, ordered pizza, and then watched a movie. I was enjoying myself so much that I’d nearly forgotten about my frustration at the website.

Of course, I remembered very quickly when Jason texted me, asking if I’d found anything. I frowned and excused myself. I hid in the bathroom before texting back. I really didn’t need anyone taking my phone and reading my conversations.

ELLE: Can’t see anything on the website. Password protected.

JASON: Seriously?

ELLE: I can access the main page but nothing else.

JASON: What’s the website?

I gave him the address.

JASON: I’ll get the password.

ELLE: How?

When Jason didn’t reply back, I figured it was better if I didn’t know. I headed back out to where Chance and Jasmine were still watching the movie, but now I was in a bad mood. My hands clenched. I wanted to be out there, doing something to track down the guy who killed my family. I hated waiting. I hated being useless.

“You okay?” Jasmine asked me. Chance paused the movie.

I shrugged. “I guess I’m still not over being sick yesterday,” I replied. “I think I’ll head home now.”

“I’ll drive you,” Chance said, grabbing his keys. Jasmine pouted.

“Feel better, okay?”

I smiled, somewhat surprised it wasn’t completely forced. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

It was nearly 9:30 PM when I got back to the Manor. I headed up to my room, mumbling something about the ‘research project’ I had to do. Although I did start out doing some homework, I quickly switched gears when Jason texted me the password to the website.

I decided not to question it.

Once I could access the website, I immediately went to the ‘about us’ page. I wanted to know exactly what the company did, or at least said that they did. Unfortunately, it was very vague, saying only that they worked with chemicals and other science-y stuff that I didn’t understand.

What I did understand, however, was how to join the company and where it was located. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too far from Gotham. But what was really interesting was the page that told who the five founding members were. I googled the names, which led me to discover that three of them were dead and the other two – both wanted criminals – were missing.

I smirked. “Not for long.” Not with Jason and I searching everywhere. 

Finding the two remaining founding members would allow us to know what was really going on in this company. It would also probably point me in the direction of who killed my family, and why.

ELLE: Can you find anything on Elliot Bay or Suzanne Briggs?

JASON: Do you have any idea what time it is

ELLE: :(

I fell asleep waiting for Jason to reply, only to wake up to my phone vibrating a couple hours later. Jason had already figured out where Suzanne Briggs currently lived. I narrowed my eyes.

ELLE: How did you find her so quickly if she’s been missing for years?

JASON: I have my ways now let me sleep

I grinned darkly. I couldn’t wait to visit this Suzanne Briggs a visit.


End file.
